


Seeking Asylum.

by Chibaba27



Category: James McAvoy - Fandom, Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Detectives, F/M, James McAvoy AU, Michael Fassbender AU, Other, Serial Killers, Smut, smut later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 49,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibaba27/pseuds/Chibaba27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Insane and Intrigued, Terrified yet relaxed. Dangerous but so gentle. A Psychotic Serial Killer Michael Fassbender AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Stranger In Need.

It was 2 and you couldn’t quite get to sleep. Well, rather you were procrastinating the fact that you needed to go to sleep, but you became busy finishing reports on what you did today at work. Technically you finished that two hours ago, now you were sitting on the sofa, drinking hard liquor and reading Dante’s Inferno. You mostly lived alone, mostly as in your roommate was usually going out getting laid, multiple nights at a time, but you didn’t mind as you generally had the small property to yourself. Although it was on the fringes of a small town, stuck between a major city as well, the isolation was relieving. Your roommate always said it was daunting being cooped up away from everybody else which was why he spent most weeks in the city, leaving you alone with the cold and open air.

 

You took a medium sip of the liquor and bit your bottom lip as it burned from the inside out. You realised that it was beginning to become bed time as the words in the book started to become blurry, so you closed it and looked around quite energetically for something to do. You sat up and stretched out your limbs and gathered yourself to the kitchen, feeling the cool draft sifting up your loose pyjama pants and the air prick at your arms exposed from wearing a tank top. What do you expect when you live in England eh?

 

Most of your friends back at home said you were crazy to move from snowy cold country, Canada, to rainy cold country. You would shrug them off and say you enjoyed a little bit of drizzle. 

 

You rubbed your hands together and placed them on the large wooden island in the middle of the kitchen and thought of what you’d bake. You faintly remembered the recipe for chocolate chip cookies and grabbed all the ingredients and set them on the bench. You stood there arms crossed thinking of what might you have forgotten, then ran over to the couch to pick the bottle of vodka you have left. “There we are, all set!” and you began.

 

By the time you finished, it was only 3 and you sighed a long exasperated sigh, you admitted to yourself that living alone was quite a bore. So you decided that you might as well head off to bed.

 

You lay in bed for what seemed like a good hour but when you looked at the clock, it was only 3:15. You moaned in pain at the thought that the sun will come up soon and you tried to turn to the other side to get to sleep.

 

Suddenly, there was stillness to the air and that’s when you heard it. The bushes outside the front of the house rustled, but not by the wind, you knew what that sounded like. Then it happened again. You pricked yourself up on your elbows and listened more carefully... there it was again. Was it a fox? You weren’t sure if you should investigate or not, since you’ve seen what happens to people in horror films. Instead, you decide to go back to sleep, or try to anyhow.

 

A long minute had passed and you heard a loud thud come from the second floor a room over from over top of yours. You launched yourself up and swung your legs over and rushed you to your closet, grabbing a wooden bat, for precaution clearly.

 

As you walked up stairs, you held it high over your head, ready to swing. When you reached the top step, you saw the bathroom light on, in reaction you held your breath as you approached it, and it seemed that the hall ever longer with each careful step you took. Taking two careful steps you heard the shower turn on and you ceased in your tracks. You took another three, and on the last a loud creak broke the silent streak. You heard the shower stop and a long silence hung in the air. “What the hell...?” you barely whispered to yourself. “Jesus Christ Harold! You could’ve just knocked if you lost your key again!” You eased up and closed the distance between the bathroom and you. You entered and widened your eyes as clothes dampened with blood splayed across the floor, some of it smeared on the mirror and wall of the shower. You began to back out of the bathroom and right when you were going to turn, a strong body wrapped it’s long firm arm around your abdomen and the other sealed your mouth with its hand over top of it.

 

You kicked and tried to scream, even tried to swing the bat, but the assailant snatched the wrist you were holding it in and twisted it, spraining it. You moaned in pain, but kept kicking. Now you knew it was a male as he whispered in your ear against your tangled hair “Shh..Shhhh...” You fought even harder against him, and finally, you bit a huge chunk of his palm, finally, make him let you go.

 

He dropped you as you looked at his hand, all the while, you managed to gather yourself, despite being a little tipsy, and you caught a glimpse of his face, he had quite some looks from what you quickly saw, but you averted your eyes to the bat, which rested between you and him. You looked to him again and you caught what you were looking at and at the same time, you both lunged for it.

 

Despite you seeing it and acting on it first, he clearly had a longer body and reached it before you. He grabbed hold of it, having you miss it entirely, leading to a hard slam on the floor. He acted quickly, and before you could even turn over, he sat on top of you, holding the bat across your back. You tried to wriggle him off but he was much heavier than he looked. You could hear a small laugh escape his chest, but he shifted before you could respond and he now had his mouth to your ear again. “Just stay calm and nobody gets hurt.” His voice sounded like verbal poison, and once again he shifted. You felt his mass lessen on you and when you turned your head to see what he was doing; he motioned you to roll over. You didn’t want to be beaten with your own bat so you complied. You quickly eyed the pointed comb on the sink counter but averted quickly so he wouldn’t catch you again.

 

He returned his mass on your stomach and smiled smugly, his feet rested on either of your upper arms and he slouched forward, enabling proper eye contact. He held your bat over his shoulder as if it was his, and you gritted your teeth. You heard him hum appeasement as he looked down over you. You glared back into his eyes and he winked back, which made you even more furious and frustrated. If only you could reach the comb.

 

“I need you to do something for me, if you’re willing and kind enough” He had an almost innocent tone as his face turned from smug and comical to a dangerous seriousness.

 

“Go Fuck yourself” you responded with a forced smile that looked more like a churn of disgust.

 

“Well, I would if I could...” He shrugged in thought and smiled smugly again down on you.

 

You now had an idea of what he might want and felt your stomach hollow from fear, you must have carried a look of shock when it did as he furrowed his brow to confusion, he must have known what you were thinking.

 

“No! Oh God no... Not that.” He said with such casual reassurance. “I need to know what your practice is” He leaned closer down and pursed his lips. You just responded with complete utter bafflement. “I study psychology at the moment, why—“ He placed a long finger over my lips and shushed me. You beamed at him with even more bafflement than before.

 

He fidgeted and looked away. “No, that won’t do.” He stood up, relieving his weight from your stomach and paced around the medium sized bathroom. You propped yourself on your elbows and looked at him. You were completely stupefied at what he wanted, why he was here, your house, isolated in the country of all places, and why he wanted to know about your practice.

 

He stopped in the midst of his pace and turned on his heels; hands clasped together and pointed them at you, his face now almost hopeful. “Do you know any medical technics?” You sat up more straight and hesitantly shook your head, afraid that he might rid of you for being mostly useless, but you remembered how to sew, but a while ago. “I know how to sew.” You partly lied and raised your shoulders. He snapped his fingers, making you snap back into a tense composure, not realising you had relaxed. “Perfect!” He rummaged to get his leather jacket off, dropping it on the floor, almost making a thud noise if it were 2 kilo’s heavier, then he proceeded to remove his damp shirt.

 

You became a bit flustered as he did so and tried to look anywhere but his nude torso, although it was quite accountable, but you took in mind he had an athletic build, quite nicely defined as well. But those thoughts were swept away as he sat on the edge of the bath/ shower and showed you his wounds.

 

You were quite horrified at how bad they looked, but when you tried to concentrate past all the alcohol still swimming in your head, you realised it was mostly the blood smeared around. He tapped beside a large wound on his left shoulder and smiled at you “Just be gentle with me. Otherwise...” he flipped a switch blade, exposing his intentions if I tried anything. You nodded your head anxiously and looked around for anything to stitch it up but you remembered the little sewing equipment you had was store downstairs.

 

“I need to go downstairs” you insisted, hoping he’d let you go down by yourself. You wanted to help him, but you wanted more to get away. Either way, your hope was in vain as he stood, towering over you now as you stood so close. He brought his face near to yours and you could have sworn, he was going in for it, his breath was warm, his body heat even warmer, despite being soaked by the rain outside. You could only stand there frigidly and peer into those ferocious blue eyes. “Very well...” he said and wrapped an arm around your shoulders and lead you to the hall.

 

You set yourselves up the tools you needed for such a vulgar operation the large kitchen island, breathed in deep and met his eyes with anticipation. “Ready?” he said with assurance. You grabbed the vodka sitting beside you and gulped a heavy sum, setting it down hard as the burn coursed through you like blood and winced. “yep...” you groaned. And you began.

 

You pricked it in, he flinched a little but continued along.

 

His scar was quite long and by the time you got half way, he relaxed his hand on the blade and you managed to relax a little as well. You stood behind him, and when you felt like he couldn’t make eye contact you tried to muster a conversation.

 

“How’d you manage the pain while we were... upstairs?” You tried to stay away from the obvious questions like ‘Where’d you get these from’ or ‘what’d you do?’ in case the switch blade would come back.

 

You could feel the crook of a smile play on his face and his mind almost wander as he managed a small, effort made laugh. “When you’ve grown up like I have, you learn to ignore the pain when you’re on the run. Besides... the Adrenaline hasn’t waned off yet.” He turned to you with a calm, innocent grin, and for a moment, just a moment, you felt like he was a friend, and you smiled in response. He noticed the gesture and an expression had surfaced, one you weren’t quite familiar with but you were sure enough what it was. You removed your eyes from his and continued to sift through the needle and the thread. 

 

He winced again, only more loudly as you pulled at the string to close the wound. “Ah” he exclaimed. “Sorry...” He gritted through your teeth with the immense effort not to cause any more pain. “No need to be sorry, you’re just doing your job.” You stopped for a split second to look at him, but his head was turned the other way. He seemed like such a casual guy, you couldn’t imagine that he was breaking and entering people’s houses with wounds like these. Then after the small thought you returned to his wounds.

 

It was now 4 A.M. and you leaned back, almost admiring your not so good work and crooked your mouth. He hopped off the counter and tried to see the stitch’s himself, pulling at the skin to help, you slapped his wrist away and warned him they would just reopen. He smiled at you for scolding him.

 

A solid quiet froze the air as you both just stood there looking at each other, you with your arms over your chest and his resting on the island behind him. After the moment, you pointed to the plate with cookies on it, and when you returned your eyes to him, you caught his eyes finishing looking you up and down. When he realised he was caught out, he jerked away and accepted the offer, grabbing one and nibbling at it.

 

Why had you just offered a cookie to someone who was most likely to harm you, you didn’t know, but you were sure that he wasn’t going to now. He looked at you and smiled shyly as you stood there quite awkwardly.

 

“Well, it was pleasures to meet you miss...” he held his hand out with one hand and bit the cookie that was in his other. You smiled and accepted his handshake.

 

“Osha” 

 

“Osha? Do you have a first name? Surely that can’t be—“ 

 

“Fae” you quickly added with a slight smile.

 

“Well, in that case.” He light gripped your hand and turned it over and gently placed his lips over you knuckles and bowed. “I am most delighted to be sewed up by miss Fae Osha.” He looked up and smiled a deviant smile “I hope it’s not Misses.” You smiled and laughed suspiciously. “Wha—no. Wait aren’t you ro—“ Before you could finish, he pulled you forward, colliding into his warm, firm torso, wrapping an arm around the small of your back and the other lifting your chin to align with his. Your head was still a bit spiny from the vodka, and that had the effect of your flustering as your breath became short. Your hand oddly rested on his shoulder as he leaned in closer, to your ear and whispered."And I, my most generous lady, am Michael Fassbender. But you wont remember that.” You leaned away, furrowing your brows hesitantly and he smiled wickedly to you.

 

He crashed his lips against yours, you felt your mind melt to goo at what was happening and how you managed to stay calm and composed through the whole situation, but you mind was clouded by the poison this stranger, this shameless man, was supplying with his lips caressing yours. Oddly enough, you let practically let him as you didn’t even resist to this moment. But nonetheless you enjoyed it, his mouth was warm and inviting as his strong jaw shifted and moved forward to indulge in more of you.

 

When he pulled away he winked and slipped a cloth over your mouth, you struggled, you began breathing heavy and before you knew it, your eyelids grew heavier and your conscious mind had slipped away. The last thing you saw was a gentle smile split this man’s face.

 

All the while you were going out, you had regretted every moment where you shared that damn smile that cursed eye contact. You cursed to yourself or to him as you finally let go of the world and slip into a deep dream. You heard from afar his voice, husky and warm, ‘It was a genuine please... I hope to see more of you Miss Osha.”


	2. This Is News.

You felt your mind hammer back into consciousness, as well as reality. You slowly opened your eyes, and were immediately invaded by pain as the light scorned the back of your eyes. You winced and moaned from the sudden blindness and squeezed them tight, rubbing them hard. It had brought some relief but something still etched your thoughts. ‘Had that really happened to me?’ you thought. You lay in bed, attempting to remember what had happened, but it only came in faint visits, mostly due to the alcohol tainting your efforts for any real head work.

 

You sighed and relaxed, you realised you were in your room when you looked around. ‘Did he really carry me upstairs? Back to my own bed?’ It was strange, you felt like it all happened but then again, it could’ve been a dream. You figured you probably passed out before you baked the cookies and managed yourself to your bedroom from the couch. It was the only reasonable explanation.

 

You also realised that you were still in bed, whipping your head around you stared at the clock. 10:37 A.M. You jerked into action, moving in an almost automatic progression, first the bathroom, then the freshening, grooming and finally the clothes. This step of the journey wasn’t always the easiest, but when you’re in a rush, almost anything goes. You decided on something simple yet sophisticated.

 

You suddenly stopped when you noticed only now that the bathroom was neat and tidy. No blood on the walls, no clothes littering the floor. You finished slipping the earring in and froze in your thoughts. You could remember almost so clearly now. He was here! You were so sure of it. You weren’t imagining it. You weren’t crazy! Unless you hoped not and as far as you knew, vodka did not cause hallucinations or vivid dreams, just what feels like an ass kicking in the morning.

 

That name though. You could hear his voice so clearly as he husked his name into your ear. “Michael Fassbender” you repeated with a mundane tone. You huffed out a long breath and continued readying. Pulling your hair into a loose pony tail and tightening it slightly and slipping your bangs out. You straightened your jacket and made your way downstairs.

 

You stopped as the lock to the door fidgeted and entered Harold. He was quite built, sandy blonde hair with dark brown eyes. He raised his eyebrows in your acknowledgement and moved out of the way. He understood too well when you were rushing to not get in your way. He reopened the door and off you went. He called your name and shouted something but you waved him off and managed to call your boss/teacher on your phone.

 

“Hey! Sorry, I’m gonna be—“ You held the phone awkwardly in between you ear and your shoulder while rummaging through your bag when the phone slipped out from the wedge you thought could hold a stupid piece of plastic. It hit the floor and you cursed yourself.

 

Harold stood in the doorway, leaning with one arm and smirked. “need a ride?” You whirled and looked at him with a funny face. “You haven’t filled your car since last Sunday” he raised in eyebrow and you stomped your foot in the rubble of the driveway “Shit!” He laughed and made his way down.

 

Today was just not your day.

 

The car ride towards the small down was long and gruelling, and awkward as can be. You had no strong ties with Harold, and each time he would come “Home”, you felt like you had to tip toe around your own house. Even though you had your job/lectures on your mind, you still had it set on last night and what had happened. You remembered the last thing he did was... Eat one of your cookies? You weren’t sure as you didn’t take time to notice if you even baked cookies.

 

Your thoughts were interrupted as Harold clicked the radio on. At the same time you pulled out your phone and tried for your boss again. “Hey! Alex! Sorry, hey, I’m just calling about my lateness and I’m really sorry. I should be there at around—“”Yeah, hey! I have a patient waiting here to see you, says he’ll only see you.” You held your breath. Well this was a surprise.

 

You were almost at a legible psychiatrist, but not quite. You weren’t even a well known name around the small town, but you agreed to the suspicious patient anyhow. “I’ll be there in fifteen.” You said and hung up.

 

You felt Harold’s eyes set on you with unease. “What’d he say?” You breathed in deep and let out a long sigh. “I...Have a patient.” He smiled and patted you on the shoulder like a big brother would. “Yeah! Way to go!” You pursed your lips and had an immense feeling of hesitation with this whole ordeal.

 

You fell silent for a long while and at this point, you actually started listening to the radio, but the words you decided to cut into ruined your morning ever more.

 

“a man and two women were reported murdered just this morning in the early hours. It was reported that the assailant was scene leaving the house on the fringes of a small town called Sudbury, North East of London. The victim’s were reported to have multiple stab wounds, the women had bruised marks around their neck, most case of strangling. In any case, any villages or houses near that area, make sure to keep your doors locked and call the police if you witness any suspicious behaviour.”

 

You sat there in silence, stunned by what had happened an so close to your own town. Maybe that man last night was in fact real. And maybe, just maybe, he was the man who had killed those people. You glanced over to Harold who only raised his eyebrows as he tensed in his chair.

 

When you finally arrived, you felt a bit more insecure of where your work was. You felt queasy as you entered but shrugged the feeling off. You greeted Miranda at the front desk and she gave you a flirty wink and whispered “You’ll like this one”. You laughed and proceeded upstairs. When you entered you jumped a little, almost dropping your files.

 

It was him! The man from last night. You stood wide eyed just staring, hands clutched tight around the papers, almost crumpling them. Alex called you name, which made you jerk back into business.

 

“Ah! Fae, finally you’ve come!” Alex held a hand out to motion me towards the desk and you followed. When Alex had his back turned, you glanced back to the man in the chair, this Michael Fassbender. You gave him a suspicious look and he returned it with a half smile. You returned your attention to Alex who had, just in time picked up the man’s file. You looked at it and immediately noticed the name. Ryan Sheppard. You chuckled quietly and when you looked back when Alex was busy with a few more files, you caught this mysterious man in the chair doing the same looking up and down as he did before. So far, that was all you could remember of the worst he’d done.

 

He caught your eyes and winked and rolled your eyes. After Alex had organised everything, you sat in a chair opposite to ‘Ryan’ and crossed your legs, and he watched carefully as you did so, tilting his head to indulge what he had before him. You tapped your pen, waiting until he was focused and you began.

 

“So, Ryan...” You looked up from your clipboard as you said the name, he responded with a wicked grin. “Tell me, why do you think you need this kind of help?”

 

He let a minute of hard silence go by as he sat in the mahogany leather chair, legs spread open as if he was giving birth, you thought. He pressed his lips together and began “Well, It has been a long while since I had any proper sleep.” You took note, without trying to look into those intense blue eyes. “And why is that?” He took a deep gasp of air and let it out as fast as he had sucked in. “I’ve been having some very...vivid dreams.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and clasped his long hands together. You finally looked at him with raised eyebrows. You became ensnared by his gaze, but averted them when Alex gave a small cough.

 

“Could you describe these dreams for me please Ryan?”

 

He looked up to you with a challenging expression smiting his face. He grinned at you and leaned back in his chair. “I hope you’re not squeamish.” He laughed. You smiled and pursed you lips, and urged him to go on.

 

“Where should I start... I know.” He had that energy you remembered, or thought you remembered yet anyway. You still weren’t sure if what happened had really occurred, and this man here was just obnoxious and odd, or was it really the man from last night, and if so, had he begin to stalk you?

 

He moved forward to sit at the edge of his chair and clasped his hands together again. “The most recent episode I had was... I remember entering a house, it was quite cozy, small, but roomy I suppose. I remember walking toward a bed with someone sleeping in it. I remember stretching duck tape around their mouth and then dragging them into their cellars. Tying them on meat hooks. Lashing them with a belt that held a quite large buckle...”

 

You observe as his face started to soften from the smile to a lost look, a concentrated expression. You could feel how he became lost in his own words as well as his mind. You stared at him with intensity, concentrating as hard as he did while he continued on.

 

“I could feel the flesh, their bare skin breaking, giving way to the metal that struck their skin. I felt an overwhelming sensation. I felt like I was stuck in ecstasy. I distinctively remember the vibrations of their screams, humming in my ears. The way they moved less and less as the metal piece hit hard and harder. Until finally, there were no more screams.”

 

You had your mouth slightly gaped as he finished, you could feel the tense of Alex’s body. You watched the man with caution. Once he looked up you took note. You sighed and returned to the man.

 

“So, Ryan. These are specifically dreams you are talking about yes?” You urged the question, feeling a little fearful of what he might respond.

 

“As far as I know.” He replied with a smug smile. Again it was so familiar. “Although, I hope it comes true, only you handling the whip.” He grinned at you with that same wickedness before and winked. You cocked your head to the side and gritted your teeth.

 

“And why would you want to be beaten to death with a metal belt buckle ‘Ryan’?” You emphasised on his “name” and gave him a fed up stare. His smile broadened in response “I think you’d enjoy it” His voice husky and deep. Oh yeah, You were sure that what happened last night really did happen. You figured he must have cleaned it all up when.. what happened that made you forget?

 

“And why do you think that?” You jotted more notes down; making sure you wrote clearly A Masochistic and Sadistic Pervert. He leaned forward again, his voice all serious until he spoke. “you just occur to me as the Sadistic yet submissive type” He licked his lips and you curled your fist into a ball, ready to strike. You couldn’t believe this asshole. Now you were positive they weren’t the same man.

 

“Ok! I think that will be all for today Mr. Sheppar!” Alex called out, indicating for him to leave and he did so without a fuss, waving you good bye on his way through the door way.

 

You turned to Alex with an exasperated look on your face. He shook his head in response. “I’ll make sure he won’t come here any more.”

 

After the rest of your hours at work, which you usually finished at five, you packed your things and made your way home. Cursing to yourself for the third time in one day, you realised you had no other way back home, Alex stayed to well past office hours, no doubt screwing the secretary Melinda. You sighed and commenced your journey back to your house by walking. You removed your heels and slipped on small flats, now you were set.

 

Along the way home, it was getting rather dark, and it was getting colder. By the time you would get home, it was only going to be six.

 

You were so relieved when you arrived home, you locked the door behind you straight away and went about your normal evening routines, this time making sure you were going to bed earlier.

 

As you lay in bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ryan, or Michael, or whoever the hell he was, and what he had said. Maybe those wounds he supposedly had were from the attack on that man and the two girls. But either, you still felt endangered since he was in your town now. You feared for the worst, which didn’t he you at all getting to sleep and so you stayed up, lying awake in your bed until 1 A.M.

 

You watched the clock and the minutes go by, when after seven minutes, you had finally achieved what you needed.

 

When you awoke next, the sun wasn’t burning in your eyes, instead, it was a dull, warm light that had risen you from slumber. You rubbed your eyes and looked to the lamp. You didn’t remember turning it on. Harold maybe? You looked over to your clock, it read 3 A.M. “God...” You murmured to yourself. Then a sudden, calm voice had come from the end of your bed “Sorry if I woke you...” You shot up in your bed, pressing yourself against the headboard. “Jesus!” You whispered.

 

It was him again. He sat shirtless, exposing his toned back, with the cuts looking a little bit better, but not by much. You sat there in silence and stared as he kept his back toward you. “And, I’m very sorry for the way I spoke to you today, that was... very uncalled for.” You kept your silence as he spoke with a hush. He turned his head slightly, but you could see that he was exposing another cut on the side of his head on purpose. “Would you kindly?”

 

You were so unsure of what he wanted, but you nodded, not that he could see but, he knew you didn’t really have a choice.

 

You climbed off your bed and gathered the materials. You grabbed a chair and sat it in front of him and began your work. You thought he might not even need stitches and just decided to clean it with alcohol. The entirety of the time, he winced and moaned in pain. “I thought you were used to pain?” you asked condescendingly, he laughed and caught your eyes. Again there was that moment of familiarity. He shifted his head so he was more your eye level, and he began to approached.

 

Luckily, you grabbed his jaw and repositioned it for a better view of his cuts. “Focus!” you demanded and he laughed again.

 

Although you were exhausted beyond belief, you had to keep an eye on him in case he tried anything after you finished your job. He sat up and returned his shirt onto his body and his jacket over top. “I should be off then.” He proceeded to exit. What made him so confident that you wouldn’t call the police? Was he so sure that you were afraid of him not to? No that wasn’t it. There was something about him you thought. He seemed so easy going, you didn’t want to believe that you were letting this stranger break into your house and ask to be fixed up without any explanation for what happened.

 

You let him go nonetheless without fuss. Just as he was about to exit the door way, you called out. “Wait, Michael!” he stopped and turned in the doorway. “Those dreams... do you really have them?” you asked, genuinely concerned. He smiled sadly and looked down before meeting your eyes with all honesty. “They’re not dreams.” He said and finally left. You felt a vertigo shift your mind at what you just heard. Surely it wasn’t true. You weren’t helping some psychotic killer. No way. You didn’t want to believe it.

 

There was an uneasiness that set into your bones as you lay in your bed the rest of the night. You couldn’t reach anymore sleep after what was admitted. After a long moment, your eyelids became heavier than you would’ve like and you slipped off again, into a deep slumber. Into a deep dream. And there it was. You were chained up to a wall, almost bare naked when a figured appeared in the door silhouetted by the light that flooded from outside, nearly blinding you. You struggled to break off but he pinned you against the wall, you chest cold from the stone slab and your back hot with the man pressing hard against it. You heard his voice whisper calmly in your ear. “It’s no dream, sweet.”

 

You awoke with sweat droplets of sweating faintly forming on your temples. You panicked that you had fallen asleep with a homicidal killer in your area, not only that, but coming to your house for repairs.

 

Although you thought him to be a murdered, you still had a hope that it wasn’t true. You managed out of bed, relieved you didn’t have work, not even caring what the time was. You exit your room to the kitchen and saw Harold leaning over a bowl of cereal, fixated on the TV with the morning news.

 

The cameras were set on a small house in a small village mapped near your own, you didn’t take note of the name, just that it was near yours. You could feel your breath shake as you saw the headlines, ‘2 dead in their own homes in a homicidal attack’. The noise was flooded from your head but the words ‘Assailant is believed to be a man named Michael Fassbender, legally charge for murder, rape, body mutilation among other crimes. Is an escape convict of the Broadmoor institute for the criminally insane.’ You covered your mouth from the shock. You heard Harold speaking but didn’t process what he said, you were still trying to process what Michael had said in response to your question, and the fact that he was in fact, a murdered, among other things. 

 

What shocked you more was the sketch that was displayed. It was a damn close drawing to him too. You were furious, scared and confused. What would you do if you saw him again? Would he kill you next?


	3. A Friend In Need.

All day, you checked the windows, made sure the doors were locked and continually felt uncomfortable in your own home. Harold obviously took note of this and would pass you questioned looks, you were clearly acting more paranoid than the rest of the people who were informed of these attacks.

“You ok?” he asked, handling a cup of hot coffee to you.

You smiled at him reassuringly and took the hot beverage, almost burning your own hands, but it was a comfort as the cold started to bite your exposed skin. “Yeah, just the news... Getting the jitters I suppose.” You gazed out the large windows which saturated the large wooden room with gray light. The angle the house was on, it looked like you sat on the second story, but It was only that you lived on a major slope, not only that, but the windows were larger than life, stretching from the ground to the ceiling, which made you feel even more exposed as anyone could look in here. If they were herding sheep in a large open field that is, nonetheless, you still felt uneasy staring out the thin glass separating you and the rest of the world.

You took a small sip and indulged in the burning feeling it gave you, warming your insides, literally. You were curled up against the back of the couch and peered out the window. “You think we should get rid of these windows?” you asked seriously. Harold chuckled with disbelief “Jesus, Mary and Joseph... I thought you therapists were supposed to be the sane ones. Not paranoid like the rest of us.” He laughed, raising his hands in the air. You looked over to him; head tilted in an annoyed stare. He laughed and shook his head walking away.

You breathed in deep before signing with desperation. “Yeah... Sane ones.” You said to yourself and continued on looking.

\---

Almost three hours had passed when you finally decided to go out in the small village and see what Miranda wanted to do. On days that neither of you worked, you both liked to visit local cafes or bars and talk about things, usually needless things, you just wanted company.

You called her up but she had to regretfully decline as she was already busy. Yeah, with Alex fornicating as his wife was working full time and taking care of their nine year old. You put on a fake tone of chipperness and reassured her you would find something to do. When you hung up you sighed. “Now what...” you said to yourself.

In the same moment, Harold came barging down the stairs with a large bag packed. You looked at him quickly and opened to the page you bookmarked in Dante’s Inferno. “When you gonna be back?” you asked, not bothering to look around, he stopped only for a moment. He was excited, you guessed, receiving a text message from some girl you didn’t care to remember her name saying ‘You should come over, my parents are gone for the week/boyfriend is out of town for a couple of nights.’ “Uhm, just a couple of nights” he said and skipped out the door. Usually this meant for a week.

‘Oh, boy’ you thought, He was leaving you by yourself, with a maniacal killer on the loose, who was in fact visiting you in the small hours of the morning. Just dandy eh? When he returned to close the door, you gave him a pleading look; you really wanted him to stay as this whole ordeal over the news did, in fact creep you out. He grinned and re-entered, swaying in his steps playfully as your brother once did. He placed his strong hands on your shoulders from behind and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Just give me a text if anything happens or you need something alright, you got my number, and I promise I will get back to you right away.”

You didn’t say anything but a simple shrug and he left. You convinced yourself that you two weren’t close as he was always away from your house, but in true fact, you never had someone as close to a brother as you did now. Well since your own... You rather didn’t like talking about it anyhow. Before he shut the door he called out “Hey!” you looked over to him empathetically and he winked. “I’m just a few miles out anyhow, place called Halstead, small town. But mate said there was supposed to be some diamonds in the rough there.” He winked again and closed the door. Did it really matter if he was only even a few miles out? That still a few miles of danger between him and you. A whole night’s worth of patching up a criminally insane escaped convict. Yeah, no worries.

\---

After Harold had left, you decided to get changed and go out after all. You picked out your clothes and took off. You had to walk as your car didn’t even have gas in it, but you enjoyed a nice cold walk once in a while.

Once you reached the town, you still hadn’t decided what to do yet, so you just headed to the book store. It was a small town so when you entered, the book store owner, who was always in, greeted you by your first name, you smile and nodded in reply, you felt bad as you never really remembered names, but you always remembered faces. “Jonathan” he added as if you were really trying to guess it, you just gave a fake acknowledgement expression, and continued to sift through the narrow aisles of books.

All of the books were old and rugged; they looked as if they were passed down only through second hand, which in any case you didn’t doubt. You looked at the title of one book and decided to try this one out. You read the title of the book, ‘Sins of the Flesh’. You opened it in the middle, or near it and read only a few lines and knew it wasn’t your kind of book.

Too an extent, people would say that your standards were like your picking out of books, you take a look at it for a quick second, think it looks interesting, but right when you see only a little bit of what that person is like, you put it back down and never associate with that person again. Since you came here, you had friends from the university that tried to hook you up with some guys, but you declined them all, or the dates ended in utter embarrassment. Well, more like second hand embarrassment.

You felt the presence of the old skinny man behind you and turned to face him. His hands were on his hips and a content smile brightening his face. “See what you like?” his accent was thick and strong, wasn’t normal English, you thought, definitely Welsh. You stared blankly at him, trying to process what he had just asked, and you must have looked strange as his smile had dissipated. He pointed to the book in your hand and your body responded before your mind did and raised it lightly. You felt little bad if you said no, so you smiled sweetly and walked over to the antique counter. “Yeah, I heard about this was pretty good” you had lied innocently. His smile reformed as he scanned the bar code, which looked so outfitting in this vintage atmosphere.

He handed the book in a small paper bag and smiled, unlinking his long spider fingers from the loops that you took and waved. You smiled with fake passion and waved away.

“Wow that was awkward” you said to yourself. “What was awkward?” you heard Miranda’s voice behind you or beside, spinning a full 360 to find her leaning against a corner of the book building. Your expression from curiosity to a scornful look, You pointed at her critically, trying to hold back a smile “You little piece of crap!” You hit her playfully with the bag that held the book in it and she giggled, pulling the cigarette away from her mouth. Gosh, you could tell why Alex would cheat on his wife, she was a true beauty, and she was stuck as a secretary.

You shook your head and leaned against the wall opposite to her. You gave her a ‘I know what you did' look and she shrugged it off with a knowing smile. “You shouldn’t do it and you know it. Yet here you are doing it either way” You crossed your arms and continued on, she called back “It’s not an IT, it’s a him! I’m doing HIM!” you laughed and waved her off without looking back.

\---

You reached a small cafe/bar and decided to attempt to read the small book in there. You chose a large, old Hickory leather chair that was draped with a couple of knitted blankets over the seat. A young waitress took your order of a caramel cappuccino and brought it within minutes. The location wasn’t that busy anyway, or they were excited to see you. You would only sometimes come here, but whenever you did, you managed to spark a conversation with someone, anyone really, or they would approach you first and an almost immediate friendship would start.

The worst part of it is that you never really cared for companionship, and the small talks were only ever dabble, speaking of the necessities of life, work, children, bills. But somehow, you made it sound so interesting. That was your curse you supposed, making anything great for anyone except yourself.

While you sat there, book opened in your lap, coffee in hands, you stared out the window. Completely distracted by your own thoughts as you dumbly watched the forecast. Your mind traced itself back to the news report, those women raped and murdered in their own house. The killer, in your house, pretending to seem so casual, as if you were his wing man. It troubled you how placid he seemed for a criminal, and a psychotic one at that. Yet still, you didn’t want to believe that was who he was. You still weren’t even sure if he really was visiting you or you were losing your mind from the time spent away from society.

You felt a vibration from a door opening and closing which pulled you back into the real world. You looked around to see an old man waltz to the bar and order some drink. You breathed out evenly and looked out the window again to search for those thoughts, but instead you leapt out of your chair, leaving a ten dollar note or pound or whatever, you were still getting used to the currency here, even after 2 years.

You left so abruptly that you noticed the employees set eyes on you with a little worry.

You walked down the street in a hurry back to your house; there was something you missed when you woke up, you remembered now. You were sure that you forgot to clean the blood of the cloth that you nurtured Michael’s wound with. You rushed as fast as you could without looking too suspicious as there was an account for suspicious behavior around your area. You kept your head down when you felt a presence near you.

You looked up to see a strange man; he was just passed your height, had a lean physic you also noted. You could tell he worked out. His hair was short which made him look a little groomed despite his growing scruff. You gave him a small side glanced and continued walking; he slipped his hands in his pockets trying to keep pace with you as you hurried along. “You left that Cafe... Bar thing in such a hurry I thought I said something to offend you.” He had a fairly strong Scottish accent, but it was tinged with a little British in it, just like Michael had you now noticed. You continued on without looking at him “I don’t want any trouble sir.” You said in a flat tone.

He chuckled and lightly grasped your arm, making you stop out of pity and turned to him. However you sighed, obviously implying you were fed up with this behavior. You felt a slight retreat as you did so and you attempted to relax and smile. He pursed his lips and looked down shyly. “Sorry I didn’t mean to—“He began but you started to feel worse by the second “No, it’s just... Stressed.” He nodded in understanding. Come to look at it, he was pretty attractive, as you stared at him scratching behind his ear. You chuckled at his bashful look, despite his grown man demeanor. He looked up to you and his expression idled. He smiled as he continued to stare at you as you did him.

You noticed you were both just staring and you looked away to ease the tenseness. “Sorry, I’m Detective James McAvoy.” You turned your head at the word ‘Detective’, he raised his hand, and obviously he took note that you were impressed. You took his hand and he placed his lips on your knuckles, much like Michael had done. So much reminded you of Michael, maybe those hallucinations were premonitions. Impossible, you knew how the mind worked, and you couldn’t just imagine a face that you’ve never seen before, or even a personality.

“But don’t be intimidated by the detective part, just call me James for good measure.” He finished. You grinned and felt a small flutter in your stomach. “I’m Fae Osh—“You began but he cut you off with a nod and a acknowledging smile “Osha, Yes I know. Sorry about the interruption I just-- I’ve been looking for you.” You felt nervousness swim over your mind, Did he know? About Michael? How I had helped him? Again those frantic thoughts invaded your consciousness.

You must have had a worried face surfacing as he continued on. “Oh no—Not like that!” He waved his hand.

“I meant I was looking for someone like you, a therapist.” He said. You sighed with relief but smiled sadly “Sorry, but I’m really not legible or legal yet to be stated as a therapist—“

”its fine! I guarantee I won’t tell.” He gave you a mischievous wink. You giggled lightly and shook your head.

“Meaning, I won’t be able to assess you and council you in my office.” You said as a real professional.

He raised his hands beside his hips and pursed his lips together. “well, I’m out of ideas than.” And he began walking back to town.

You felt a sort of sadness, and felt like it was your responsibility for his mental well being. You called after him, almost running even. “Wait! I can try something... Home office, I have a pretty big living room if you really need the help; God knows I need the practice.” You tried to sound like it was for yourself, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth and eyes, trying to keep his face straight.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.” He said skeptically. You giggled in response. “Can we start today? Just so I can get used to the environment.” You couldn’t believe him for a second, either he was smooth as hell, or you’ve been out of the game so long you forgot what the difference was between flirting and an actual trap of interrogation. Nonetheless you nodded without hesitation.

\---

While you walked back to your place, you spoke about many things, the little things in life, like pet peeves, he hated when people walked through a door you had opened for them without saying thank you, you confessed that you actually genuinely hated close minded people. He laughed at you saying you were close minded for thinking that, and you laughed along with it.

By the time you reached your house, you felt like you actually made a friend, not just someone who was smitten by your natural charm. You invited him in and offered a coffee or tea. He stuck with coffee and set his jacket on you couch. You noticed that he wasn’t just lean, but he had some muscle added to his frame in his sweater. You stared for little bit as you poured the water in and you noticed him staring back with a wicked smile. “Shall we begin?” he asked huskily folding his arms over his chest. You smiled and brought the mugs over to him.

\---

You sat in a small, but cozy blue armchair across from him who had lay freely on the couch as if he’d done this million times before.

“So, Mr. Detective McAvoy, why do you think you need therapy?” He chuckled at the name you had given him and pressed his lips together.

“hm... I suppose, just from this occupation.” He wanted to joke, but he knew he was diving into serious waters.

“Your occupations? Could you explain why?” You followed on.

“During my years as a Detective, I’ve seen some things—I’ve witnessed possibly the worst, and I guess that’s why they put me on cases such as these” he had explained in monotone. It seemed that he was bored on the matter of subject, but with all cases, people only want to seem bored to make it seem like it’s no big deal.

“And have these cases cause a negative effect on your life?” You asked, as monotone as him, but you were in fact interested in what he had to say and how he would respond.

“You could say...” he trailed. You paused for a brief moment. You really wanted to help him, he seemed like such a nice guy, and that he didn’t deserve this. “Do you want to tell me how it affects you?” You asked.

A long silence stood there, the air was stale, and it seemed like both your breathing patterns grew louder.

“My wife divorced me. She said I was too caught up in these things. She just...She didn’t understand.”

You looked over to him with sympathetic eyes. You hadn’t realized that you had been staring for a long time when he shifted in your seat and looked at you with a frown, then a placid smile. “Should I go on?” You snapped out of your trance and motioned as so.

“She said I was obsessed, I was paranoid about this... Monster.” He breathed in sharp and let out a slow, haunting breath, sounding like old pipes hissing steam. “I got help, after a while, but she said she had enough. She said I should just not bother with it anymore.” You shifted in your seat as you felt his sadness saturate the room.

“Bother with what?” you asked, your voice soft. “With her, with the case, with—everything.” He responded with short breaths. “Which case had caused this James?” Your voice sounded almost motherly, it sounded so foreign to you as it echoed in your head. He kept his eyes on the ceiling as he bit the tips of his fingers and finally responded.

“The Michael Fassbender case.”


	4. Booze and Blues.

He described how wrapped up he had been in this case, trying to catch him ever since he left that place. He described the atmosphere inside the building as a living horror story, people screaming, the smell of blood, body odor and other things too repulsive to describe. The doctors told him that Michael was a passive prisoner, they had civilized conversations with him, he wasn’t rude, well most times anyways, and he seemed genuinely nice. They would never have expected a killer. But on the night of his escape, he killed anyone who got in his way, so brutally.

You shifted in your seat, and felt an oncoming shiver run down your spine. You felt more fear as he did act calm and composed when he was with you, but at any moment he could have turned just as easily as he persuaded you he was civil.

After a long 2 hours of him speaking about this whole ordeal, you both stopped and listened to you scribing down notes of his welfare of mind. He looked to you as he lay sideways, fingers entwined in each other as he rested his hands on his abdomen. He let a sly smile form on his face and you glanced up and shared the smile.

You traveled to the kitchen, grabbing his mug on the way, but he grasped it at the same time you put your hand around it. His hands were warm as they slipped over yours, but he quickly snapped it back and chuckled. “Sorry...” He said as he sat up from the couch and followed you to the kitchen. “That’s fine” you said looking back with a smile over your shoulder.

You rested on the island after you turned the kettle on. He rested the same way as you did, forearms supporting your bodies as you arched your back downward and his up. You grinned and he gave you a grave face, but smiled between words. “Give it to me straight doc...”

You chuckled and clasped your hands together leaning in close, whispering as if it were scandalous news. “It seems you have a problem.” Your face was straight and serious, but he couldn’t stop smiling, with glee shining bright in his stunning blue eyes. “You have a serious case of Workaholism.” You ripped a piece of paper from a note pad nearby and wrote sloppily like any other doctor would. “I’ll write you a prescription, but you have to take it responsibly.” He chuckled and slumped his head between his shoulders and shook in pretend despair.

You placed the ripped page in front of him and smiled to him as he read it aloud “A pint of beer on me next week.” He laughed shyly and met your eyes again. They seemed much different from his jester’s look before, they seemed more... heartfelt as they were glazed with a certain trance. You looked to his lips, rosy and crisp. He opened them a little and you returned to his eyes, which had just left your lips, you guessed. He leaned closer to you. You weren’t sure if you ready for this. You really liked him, he was sweet and funny and open. But you weren’t sure if you were ready for this kind of situation.

You watched him attentively near your lips, when he reached inches from your own mouth, both so dazed by the thought of caressing each other, the switch on the kettle had snapped back up and you both snapped back to reality.

You felt flustered and could feel your face grow hot from an approaching blush, and when you glanced over to him, he was already red, looking sheepishly down and smiling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...” You shrugged and laughed “No it’s alright. Just don’t tell my boss.” You joked, both you fully aware that this was more confidential than your work.

You chuckled and an awkward air replaced the tense. “Well, I should be going.” He pointed with his thumb at your door” and smiled. You couldn’t help but really want to date him, you felt like you wouldn’t bore with him and he wouldn’t either. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from work.” You winked and he chuckled as he walked backwards to your door. He gave a final wave before leaving and you waved enthusiastically back.

When he was gone, you breathed a large gust of air out of your lungs, and you noticed that you were still smiling. You shook your head at the sudden realization and felt your face. You were still blushing. “Oh god...” You laughed to yourself.

\---

The week dragged out, but you felt restless as it had. You felt genuinely concerned that Michael hadn’t visited, but you also felt relieved. He seemed like good company, for the little time he had stayed. Now you started to doubt your sanity again, was I imagining this to make up a boyfriend for myself? Once I met James, Michael kind of disappeared didn’t he? Could I really just want a partner so bad that I imagined Michael?

You still doubted yourself, but you shook the thoughts away when they surfaced. You were too rational to just be desperate for a boyfriend, but you did ask James for a drink next week, which you were excited for, but you thought that it would just be a hangout, a follow up on progress.

Nonetheless, you still felt dread at the thought of Michael, not that he was a murderer, which you should’ve, but you felt that it was your responsibility that he was OK. God what is wrong with me, you thought as you got proper nights sleep.

\---

Michael sat at the bar, sipping slowly a bottle of Lager, churning his face with every gulp. He could hear a couple of girls giggling to themselves; he could also feel their gaze on him. He turned his head slightly, implicating that he could hear them. Seconds later, they accompanied themselves beside him, arms linked like school girls. He didn’t bother turning to them and took another sip. The girls coughed and ordered some martini, all the while taking glances of the man that sat next to them.

He noticed when he walked in here that the bar was mostly empty, only old men scattered at tables, falling asleep. The girl closest to him leaned against the bar, arching her back so that only her forearms rested on the wooden bench. She glanced at him multiple times until finally, Michael looked at her with a side glance. He was annoyed with them, but nonetheless, he had a plan, as he always did.

She smiled, feeling successful with catching his eye, she shifted to face him. “Me and my friend were sitting over the—““My friend and I” Michael had corrected. She looked around with a look of disbelief and continued on. “My friend and I were just sitting over there and we couldn’t help but notice that you were here alone.” She raised an eyebrow at him and he turned his body to face her and company. She had long brunette hair, messy with volume; he grazed his eyes upon both of them, looking at the brunette’s clothes and her accomplice, a dainty blonde, with dainty style .

He smirked to himself thinking it would be too easy but he decided to go along with it anyway. “If you must know, I have a friend. He decided to go home due to the lack of... people here.” His eyes looked forward again into the bar as he gulped more beer. He saw from the corner of his eyes that she bit her lip in anticipation on where she thought this was headed. She leaned closer to him. “If you invite him back, I can give you a place to stay...” He turned to look at her again, she was clever, but not so much as he did have an accent. “I could tell you were from out of town.” She breathed huskily in his ear.

In that case he thought, he slipped off his seat and grabbed a mobile phone from the pocket of the leather jacket of the man he killed a week ago and typed in a random number. The girls, rushed outside as Michael spoke. He watched them as they giggled outside in the cold, winter night.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Sorry wrong number” and he shut the phone, placing two notes that read 10 and 5, and followed outside. He grinned wickedly as he followed them outside. This, he was going to enjoy.

\---

When he had arrived at their small apartment they removed their jackets and smiled to each other. The blonde girl traveled up stairs, to freshen up or whatever, he didn’t much care, he had eyes set on the brunette first. She led him to the kitchen and opened a couple of beers, handed him one and he took a drink straight away.

When she turned back to the fridge to get a cruiser for her friend, he slipped out a bottle of pills. When she turned around, she caught him tossing some of these pills in his mouth and drank a large sip of beer. She smiled and leaned on the counter “Can I have one?” he smiled in response and tapped two in her hand. “Come on, I can handle.” She said pleadingly. But he looked at her with a straight, serious and almost scornful look. This had frightened her and she gave in, taking the two pills in her mouth and washed them down with beer. He watched her carefully and said with a flat tone “You’ll feel it in a couple of minutes, if not less.” She smiled to him, her eyes filling with lust.

“So where you from?” She asked

“I thought the accent gave it away?” he said simply, still his face was straight, still not as amused as she was.

She chuckled and played with her bottle then moved her hand to his, he removed his at the touch of her cold fingers and she pressed her lips together in response. She tried to lighten the mood or just move away from it, when her head suddenly felt woozy and loose. She almost stumbled but caught herself on the corner. “So when’s your friend coming?” She asked, rubbing her temples. Michael shook his head and said in a cool tone “What friend?”

She looked up at him, her vision blurring and twisting. He stood with such a demeaning posture, and when she was ready to shout out to her friend, he launched over the counter and slammed her into the fridge. He held her mouth shut, struggling to keep her still as she whipped her head free from his grasp.

He hissed harshly in her ear “I was really looking forward to hear you scream, but looks like your friend is going to have to sing me a song.” She tried to struggle against him but it was useless. He tightened his hands around her head, making sure that he wouldn’t slip. He held his elbows up, cupping the back of her head and still pressing hard against her mouth, despite her biting at it hard. He flexed his arms and contracted them and finally pulling at either side of her head in one strong, fast movement. A loud crack and snap escaped from her neck and her body fell limp in his arms.

He grasped her face from her narrow jaw and looked at her. He gritted his teeth, he felt the drugs wearing on as he stood there. His head started to sway and his body became an imprisonment of what he felt. He felt that nothing could stop him as the drugs started to weigh heavier in his mind now.

He hoisted her dead weight legs over his hips, and looked around for a sharp object. He leaned across and grabbed a large knife that sheathed itself in a knife rack. He took another look at her again and this time he felt his body grow hot. He had excited himself at what he would do to her.

He looked at the knife and back to her, leaning back far enough and pinned her against the wall with his hips and one arm as he hurled the knife on her right side. It gave him such pleasure feeling the splitting of flesh, how soft it was on the inside. He removed the knife, and leaned closer again; he used his other hand and shoved his thumb in the wound, exploring the texture of her flesh, of the stale blood that seeped out. He gritted his teeth again in enjoyment. If she were alive now, she would feel the pain, and the bulge grew underneath his pants.

When he became aware himself, he unzipped, and with the knife, he cut a hole large enough in her pants, moving her garments aside and entered her as harshly as he had with his thumb. He sighed in ecstasy, tilting his head back. He thrusted in her flesh once and twice and for a third time. He grabbed the knife tight and measured in between one of her ribs and moved it in, upon another rock of his hips. He grunted as he slid the knife out from her flesh and slotted it in another rib space. He didn’t see the blood spilling from her sides onto the floor, but he did feel the flesh tearing at the seams. Oh how it was so fragile. He wanted more, but it just wasn’t as exhilarating compared to a living person.

He leaned back again, letting her head fall to the side and he looked at her in disgust.

He whipped his head around when he heard a loud gasp. He saw the other one, the dainty blonde covering her mouth in fear staring at the blood on the floor then catch his deathly blue eyes. She ran for her dear life to the door, and he immediately removed himself from the brunette, dropping her to the floor like some common toy and chased after the small woman. She had tears spilling from her eyes as she struggled to unlock the door.

She shrieked loudly when he snatched her from her waist pulling her away from the door and threw her to the floor. He looked at her with such ferocity as she was crouched helpless on the floor. “Please...” she begged from sobs. “Please I’ll do anything...” He looked down upon her, tracing his eyes over her exposed legs, her tousled hair, and finally setting his dark eyes upon her. “My dear, I was already going to do anything with you anyway.” He smiled playfully and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to her feet and threw her against the wall, then slamming himself over her, and his lips over hers. She merely cried, and cried and cried. He moved down her neck, biting at it hard, almost drawing blood, but that would have been too messy for him. For now anyway. He wanted to indulge what he had now.

She reminded him so much of Fae. But she was not her, and that’s what made him angry, he did not have Fae as he was having this girl now. He wanted to caress her; he wanted to indulge himself in all of her being. He wanted Her.

He wanted to have her his way, he wanted to be in between her legs and fuck her ‘til kingdom come.

But instead he had this... this slab of meat who continued to cry. He showed her the knife with a fascinated expression embedded in his skin. The drugs continued to overlap his mind, having a second wave of joy drowning regular thoughts.

He felt a head rush come on, and his eyes went all fuzzy and black. When he returned, he sure wasn’t sane anymore. The girl just stared at him with wide eyes, mascara and heavy makeup trailing down her cheeks. “Please... just let me go...” she had sobbed, but Michael couldn’t hear her anymore, he only heard the noises she made, and he wanted more.

A loud booming knock ruptured the door and a man’s voice screamed behind it. “Hey miss! You alright in there!?” Michael felt extremely annoyed now, he gridded his teeth together. The man called out again with a strong cognitive accent, “Miss?” Michael looked furiously at her, as if it were her fault he was here, which in part was as she wailed like metal groaning against metal.

He placed a finger over his lips to hush her, and she did so with a hesitant nod. He grabbed the hair sloppily from the back of her head and pulled her to the door, shoving her in front of it and making sure that she only opened it a crack. She peered out the small slit and the man tried to look around inside, when he noticed the makeup running on her skin, as if her tears were made of tar. “Everything alright misses?” he asked again, Michael, who leaned against the wall behind the door, watched her body language to make sure she would not try anything. “Yes. Everything is fine.” She quickly stated, but the man could feel the uneasiness of the situation. “What was all that screaming about?” She felt a glimmer of hope that this man would help her, but Michael had poked her in the arm and twisted the knife drawing blood. She tried her hardest to keep a straight face without wincing at the pain. “I... Broke up with my boyfriend.”

Michael nodded at her with a smile of appeasement and she nodded with a fake smile closing the door. He listened for the footsteps of the man walk back down the hall. When he heard what he was waiting for, he instantly grabbed for the back of her head again and led her to the nearest room with a bed to finish what he sought out to do.

Over again and again, she begged for him to let her go, but he remained silent as he tied her hands behind her back, cutting her with the stained knife if she did not comply.

Alas, she was bound the way he wanted. He crawled on the bed and connected his lips with hers, he felt nothing for her or of the kiss on that matter, he just wanted the intimate touch. She left her lips as they were, not moving, as her face kept expressionless. He leaned her down on the bed, removing her underwear from underneath her dress and gently smoothing his rough hands up her leg. Still she kept silent, and in this moment that’s all he wanted.

When he slid his flesh inside her, his mind still in vertigo, he still felt Fae under his touch, so he remained gentle with her. He kissed the girls neck gently, with such carefulness, pretending it was her. He was then overwhelmed by another sensation her wanted to feel, he gripped the knife tight and simultaneously, he thrusted inside her and pushed the knife in her stomach. He let out a blissful sigh as he did it again, as she lay there, crying, biting down on her lip so no screams escaped.

When he was reaching his climax, he wrapped his long fingers around her small throat and squeezed. He squeezed until he felt her oesophagus crack, crush and crumble under his grip, and he squeezed further until it was out of place, and still he continued squeezing. He felt he was almost there, thrusting harder into her dead body. Until finally, he had spilled himself inside of her. He arched his back upward and bit his arm to numb the thoughts that flew at him, bombarding his mind as to why he was here? Why had he done this? Why it felt so good?

But most of all, he felt numb. He rolled over to the dead girls’ side and dazed off into the ceiling. He envisioned Fae’s face smiling at him with familiarity, like they were really together. Just as he did, he felt sadness.

He looked to the dead girl and grimaced in disgust and left.

\---

Harold sat, twiddling a drink in his hand that his lady friend had bought while her girlfriends went to bother some guy at the bar. He occasionally glanced over to the hooded man as the women ordered their drinks. He felt uneasiness when his eyes set on him, but didn’t think much of it.

The girl Harold was with insisted that they go to a lake near their apartment and he did so without obligation as he knew he was going to get laid. As they were fornicating by the not so much a lake but a pond, he looked to the apartment building to see a man lunge at a woman in their kitchen. Harold ceased immediately and brought it to the girl underneath hims' attention. “Oh my god...” She barely made out. They both gasped as the man stabbed the girl. They felt helpless to do anything so they sat and watched. Harold though had the common sense to called the police.

They arrived shortly after but it seemed to be all done as there was no chase, no man in cuffs comes out, just the police scanning the scene.

Harold thought immediately of Fae, and how she was all alone. He quickly got up and called for a taxi. “Wait, where are you going?” the girl who he had not bothered remembering her name asked frantically. He looked at her baffled, “I’m just going to see if a friend is OK.” She hit his arm in defiance “What about me?” He shrugged and typed numbers in his phone and held it to his ear. As he waited he turned to the girl “The man’s gone, cops are here, you’ll be fine, just stick with them.” And he left.

The girl just stood in the cold and changed her sight from the cops to the street down the road where her parents’ home was. She chose to go to her parents’ home.

\---

During that week, James had returned for another day, but he didn’t want therapy, just talk, although he claimed he forgot his jacket. However, you decided to teach him how to bake orange poppy seed muffins. You both played with the batter as you mixed it, making sexual innuendos, fake beards and so on as you gradually prepared the batter.

When they were finally ready, James had burned himself pulling the tray out of the oven, you laughed at him and he gave you a scornful look, which didn’t last long as he joined in laughing. You blew on his finger after running cold water over it and kissed it as if he were a child. He smiled at you, and you could tell he wanted to try what he had tried before, but he must have never minded the action you guessed as he grabbed two muffins and “cheered” them. He took a bite and burnt his mouth as he dropped the crumbled pieces out of his mouth. You continued to laugh as he drank cold water.

He pointed to his mouth and said jokingly, or not “Want to kiss this one better too?” he asked and you shook your head as you frantically laughed. He attacked you with the remainder of his muffin and you struggled against him, but he had wrapped his arm around your stomach as he continued to rub it in your face.

You both stopped immediately when you heard a cough enter the room. It was Harold, and god did he ever look horrible, as if he just saw someone being murdered. He gave James a nod and James waved with the muffin in hand.

“Uh, Harold this is James, a personal patient of mine, James this is Harold, my roommate.” You awkwardly introduced. Harold seemed to ignore the introductions.

“I should get going then” James said as there was a very tense air between the two.

Harold just let him pass without meeting James’ eyes. When he was gone, Harold looked frantically at you, rummaging around the kitchen looking for something. “We should go and stay at someone’s house tonight.” He said casually as he grabbed some form of bowie knife. He looked at you waiting for a response.

“Uh... why?” you asked as an obvious question.

He pointed the knife like it was a pen or a pencil as he explained “Haven’t you been watching the news?” You shrugged your shoulders “The news about that killer?” you responded with another question. He nodded earnestly but you laughed him off. “Who’s paranoid now?” you retorted.

“I’m serious Fae; we have to get out of here.” He began to raise his voice as his tone began more solid. “And go where!? It’s England Harold! It’s tiny! There’s nowhere that we can go without being the next door neighbor of a victim of this guy.” You started to raise your voice in challenge.

“Just pack your things and let’s go” he tried desperately to convince you but you remained still before crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just news Haro—“You tried to reassure him but he stepped angrily towards you “It’s not just news!” he yelled. You were shocked at the sudden outburst, and he could sense it. He turned away from you and ran his fingers through his hair. “I saw him tonight. I saw him...” He trailed, but you could tell that he was surrendered by something. Something had terrified him.

He still did not face you as he spoke now, “Fine, stay here if you want, I’m not your brother and don’t say I didn’t tell you in the afterlife.” You were pained at the words he spoke, but anger had taken over and you snapped back through clenched teeth. “Fine.”

\---

Harold finished packing his bags and he headed off, without so much of a word. You yelled in frustration and returned to the island in the kitchen, nibbling at a muffin in the overhead lamp light. Everywhere else was dark except for this spot. This made you feel ghoulish but thought nothing of it. Your mind was just hot with anger.

Suddenly a lamp had turned on in the lounge room on the small arm chair and you jolted to see a bloodied Michael. You reached for a knife but the familiar voice insisted. “It’s OK...” You approached cautiously and widened your eyes at all the blood he had on his hands and torso. You tried to say something, scanning hysterically over the mess on his clothes.

“Sorry if I get your couch dirty.” He said in a flat tone. You met his eyes which were dark under the weak lighting. He had an equally weak smile on his face. For a second you could’ve sworn he was doped up. You took more steps towards him and your heart began to race. So he was in fact an insane killer. Dandy. Just dandy.

He stood up from the chair and approached you to close the distance. His face was revealed a little better and his pupils were pretty dilated. You squinted in the light, inching closer to his face. “Are you high?” you asked with astonishment. He chuckled in response, god even his laugh was husky and calm, you could feel the vibrations from inside your chest as well.

He collapsed on the long couch, face first and looked sideways out. You sat in the small chair opposite. “I need help...” He began with a helpless voice. “Not just anyone’s help. I need yours.” He met his cold, blue ferocious eyes with your eyes, but they didn’t seem anything like that, they just looked lost, desperate and hurt. You had a wave of panic flush over you, your conscious mind screaming to run right now, but instead, you nodded with a sincerity you never thought you would feel. You relaxed in your chair, picked up the clipboard, but he shook his head in refusal. “I want to talk to you, I want to get to know you.”

You felt a moment of hesitation, and you began to open your mouth.


	5. Quid Pro Quo

“What would you like to know about me?” You asked curious. Michael shrugged his shoulders childishly with an effort as he laid lazily, front of body against the couch. You smiled to yourself, you were amused at the thought of you being able to talk about anybody, in detail how they are like, their personality, why they think as they do, and yet you still couldn’t find a way of describing yourself or your life journey that got you here.

He turned in his seating, placed like an adult, leaning forward and his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together readily. You crooked a smile over your face as he looked like the doctor now, oh how the tables have turned you thought. He had a bonafied interest placard on his face; he perked his bottom lip out, looking to the floor in surrender and suggests where to start “Alright. How about I begin with myself, telling you little bits and pieces about myself, why I need your help, and you must give me a piece of information of yourself.”

You muffled a laugh thinking of how this was almost like Hannibal and Clarice Starling from the Silence of the Lambs. “Like Quid Pro Quo?” He cocked his head to the side at your reference, raising his eyebrow you elaborated “It’s from a movie a lot like this... situation.” He gave you a sly glance accompanied by a smile that matched, you felt his eyes turn back to those brisk blue as he peered through your confident exterior, shining his blue light on your being, “This situation?” He asked, a challenge in his tone.

You breathed in deep and gave an equal sigh back. There was a small part of you that doubted he was a deranged menace, but you still dared to ask the question. “Do you really...” you couldn’t finish it as you regretted the words once they escaped your mouth before your rational mind could hold them back. You peered at him with inquisitive eyes; he knew what you were implying. He raised his eyes from his hands but kept his head down; he finished your question immediately, his face as frozen as those blue eyes, with only his mouth moving “A killer?”

You felt an endangered feeling swell in your gut as he remained like this for a long moment. You couldn’t gather the strength to look away, and you weren’t cowardly enough to look away, you just fixated your mind, body and soul on his observing eyes.

After that short time passed, he tore his sight away from you and leaned back in the couch, spreading his legs wider the farther he sunk in the seat. “Yes.” He said so simply, so unpretentiously. You just stared at him, switching your eyes from his legs, to his hands to his torso, anywhere not to look at those demeaning eyes.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He asked, almost sounding concerned, but more fascinated. You collected the courage to look back in his eyes and they seemed flat, like death was inhabited in his iris’, which didn’t at all match his tone. You felt your breathing become uneven as you sat in your chair, feeling smaller than you had before. He took that as an answer, and instead of changing the topic, he leaned on his knees again and grinned like the Cheshire cat, his eyes filled to the brim with immoral thoughts, you could tell. “And what else makes you uncomfortable?”

You didn’t realize, but your breathing had deepened, you heart raced and your hands had grown moist. You felt as if he was going to lunge at you, wrapping his slender fingers around your throat like all the other girls he killed. But something in your head commanded you to just respond, and you felt your body calm as you uttered suddenly “Sex.” He heeled his body, not expecting a response like that, but his smile grew wider. “Is that so...?” he said huskily, mostly to himself, but loud enough just for you to hear it.

You felt a flutter in your stomach and your face grew hot at what you became aware of what you said. “Why’s that?” he asked a bit flirtatiously. You chuckled and looked away from his subduing gaze. You really didn’t want to explain, but thought you had to if you wanted to get to know him, and fair was fair as he declared himself a killer openly to you.

“I suppose because...” you tried to think why you were so nervous about it. You shrugged your shoulders and convinced yourself to try and expand on why you felt that way “That I only had it once, and even then, all that talk of the...actions and such. Just creeps me out.” You gave him pleading face, hoping that it would suffice for him. He returned to that looked where he looked up from a head pointed down, unnerving your thoughts as he did so. “Would showing you the actions change your mind on it? Or would it just creep you out more?” His question was saturated in lust as he spoke, and you felt the air knock out of your lungs.

A long minute of silence passed until he decided to change the concern. He tore his eyes from yours and looked around the room, resting his eyes on a jacket that was kept beside him, James' jacket. He gave you a curious look and you smirked a little. “Just a patient's, he left it here when he visited.” Michael just raised an eyebrow, a little bit of jealously poising his thoughts as he placed it back down.

You broke the awkward tension and traveled to the kitchen offering a cup of tea or coffee, or anything at that matter since you didn’t want his cool gaze etch fear in your skin. He declined but followed you slowly to the kitchen. You felt like prey being stalked as he moved so steadily without noise. You rummaged around the kitchen preparing a beverage as he neared you. You felt a bit edgy as you could sense his eyes scan over your structure. When you finally readied the cup, waiting for the kettle to boil, you turned around to see Michael inches away, your mind skipped a beat at the sudden intimacy, and at the thrill of this danger so close, so easily prepared to terminate another life.

You scanned over his torso, grazing your vision on his modestly built arms, tracing your eyes on the scars that embedded on his firm forearms then tracing them with your fingers, up to his biceps, using your thumb to feel the groove of the vein that surfaced on the peak, as your fingers continued to travel up, under the sleeve of his T-Shirt.

When you met his eyes, he looked as if he was in a trance as he had watched you touch his skin, fascinated by his old wounds. His mouth was slightly gaped, you thought he was going to say something but swiped the idea away as he gently grasped and cupped your jaw, pulling your lips to his. Your soft lips had felt his, warm, gentle, the rough surroundings of hair pushing through mulling over your mouth. Your body had grown hot as his heat radiated from his body that leaned so close. He pushed his lips harder, and you responded with the same action, wanting more of him against you, indulging in his life, which you still knew little of besides that he was a murderer.

In that moment you didn’t really much care, all you felt was this man, this Michael Fassbender kissing you passionately without any hesitation, without any thought of consequence if you rejected him. But you had not, you invited him and he knew it. He leaned away for a moment, disconnecting his lips from yours, making you feel so isolated, but his eyes your glazed with a thick sugar coating of lust as he moved his shirt over his head, revealing more scars sketched in his body. You looked at all of them, witnessed what he had endured, your eyes were growing wide as they took in all of the lines that intersected his flesh.

You felt a strange fascination, you figured it was because that these were injuries from previous murders, previous people who had been slaughtered, raped, disfigured from this man. However, you also felt concern at all the damage placed in his tissue.

He took note that you were concerned and he backed away. You caught your breath as he slipped his head back into his shirt. “I should leave.” He said without looking at you, he had begin to think that you were growing more fearful of him the more he exposed himself, but it was the contrary. You were absolutely stunned by this man. You were wary of him, afraid maybe even. But mostly you were captivated by him.

You wondered for a long moment as he fixed his appearance and thought you’d voice your query. “Are those all from—“You stopped, you couldn’t say the words in case... In case what? You were already this far. He answered the implied question anyway “yes.” He turned to face you, expecting a look of fright, but you greeted him with a compelling enchantment. He mirrored your look as you had truly intrigued him.

His eyes were so full of hope, of innocence as you imprisoned your own in his sight. You managed to tear them away and pursed your lips. Out of general concern for him you offered a place to sleep, but he declined gently. Another long silence hung, not of awkwardness, well maybe a little, but it was as if you were both saying your goodbyes without words. From someone else's point of view, you both would’ve looked as though you were a painted picture of a man leaving his wife. It almost even felt like that, you were worried if he wouldn’t come back, but you were a little glad he was going to leave, as you didn’t know where you were going to head if you had furthered that moment of passion. Or even what he would do once he was done, he was, still is a killer.

He tensed his chest and breathed in “Well... I better go.” He finally made his leave, but before he exit, he turned to you and smiled. “Get some good sleep will you?” he smiled and you grinned a little, “For me.” He finished and your smile broadened. Upon that, he left into the cool night air.

\---

It was around 12 A.M. when he left and you were in bed by 12:30 A.M. You lay there, your mind quivered as it took in fully what had happened. You ran your hands through your hair. “He’s a killer Fae...” You murmured to yourself. “You shouldn’t be making out with killers and acting like...” You couldn’t finish the sentence; you weren’t in love, not to your knowledge anyhow. Besides there was detective McAvoy, James, the one who you felt all giggly around, you were starting to like him a lot more, your heart fluttered around him, you felt lighter. But Michael gave you thrill, it might have been because he was a killer, or that there was something deeper that he hasn’t yet let you explore.

Either way, your mind had begun to trudge on the thoughts more slowly as your eyelids lowered.

And for the first night in a long time, your head felt as heavy as a ton, sinking into the soft pillows as you fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.


	6. The Kiss Game

In the next week, work was pretty bland; you tried your best to listen to people as they came in once every other hour. It made the days more grueling, the only thing that made it survivable was Michael’s occasional visits in the night. When he came over, he acted like nothing had happened between the two of you, he’d just ask if you could examine the wound you stitched, which was better than it had looked last week, and he would start small conversation. You would have a laugh now and again about patients that spoke of embarrassing memories, and how you tried to keep a straight face.

You would apologize for acting shallow but he would always reassure you that it wasn’t shallow at all, especially when you’re in a business so grim. It was in moments like these that when you met his stare, that he was trying very hard to pretend everything was normal, but the look embedded in his eyes, of all the lives he’s taken, it shook you to the core and it made him desperate to reassure you that he would never hurt you.

The final days leading to Friday seemed longer as Michael hadn’t visit. However, you did catch up on news that more people were being reported murdered, raped, and mangled, all those sorts of defacing the human body. At these times, you were a bit glad that he didn’t visit; you were too self-conscious if you would tremble in his presence, provoking him to do something homicidal.

When finally the day came, the one night you would go out and have fun, you were energetic with all the excitement. You looked in your closet trying to figure something out to wear. Mind you, it was a large walk in wardrobe, but it was also very full with clothing. You looked around, trying to pick out something sophisticated, you grunted in thought that you were going to a bar, not your work. You spun around, trying to catch something with your eye when an outfit came to mind. You rummaged through the many dresses, jackets and shoes, hovering over to your messy jewellery box and completed it.

\---

When you finished dressing, you looked in the mirror for approval for the choice of clothes . You finished fashioning your hair and nodded with approval.

You sprung yourself down the stairs, feeling lightness in your step and a smile aching at your lips. You were so excited to see James, it was like you were in tenth grade again and this was your first date with your biggest crush. You swung the door open and made a quick pace to town. To you it didn’t seem like a far walk, once you got over a small mound raising from the earth you could see Haverhill.

It sat pleasantly on even ground, not many establishments protruding into the flat fields surrounding it. It began to light up, almost as if it knew you were coming with the feeling of the sun in your chest.

You hadn’t noticed the cold or the dark form in the background as you approached the town, but once you arrived, the small stone streets seemed more alive than they would be in the day. Mother and children ushering from stores, elderly couples walking in front of shops, gazing and usually criticizing. This night world brought you a joyous feeling.

You walked through the semi busy streets, entranced by others' lives, still the evidence of a smile left on your face. Then you heard a Scottish voice exceed the crowd as it called your name “Mrs. Osha?” It sounded foreign to hear your last name come from someone elses' mouth. You spun around to see James leaning forward to make sure it was you. A stern face disappeared as he approached you and a smile replaced it.

“Ah, Detective McAvoy.” He chuckled at the titles, he waved his hand in refusal “just James.” You cocked your head to the side with a vain look crossing your face, holding your nose up in parody “Miss Osha” you stood there for a moment and broke into laughter. “Good thing for me that it’s just miss then” he gave you a verifying look as he made his way to your side holding out an arm so you could link it. You looked at it scornfully, titling your head high again, “As a professional, I am not allowed to befriend any of business partners and/or patients.” You kept your hands in your pocket of your jacket as you tuned your hips on the spot, you wanted so badly to link your arm. He laughed and attempted to keep a straight face “well, it’s a good thing I’m not your patient.” You laughed and finally linked his arm and traveled to the first bar you both saw.

\---

We entered the first, large pub/bar. Bull hotel it was called, and it was pretty head on, there were dart boards at the far end of the room, a couple of pool tables just feet away from the dart section, and despite it being a small town, the place looked much smaller on a Friday night as people filled the large empty spaces. “Well, I’ve never seen it like this before.” You shrugged you shoulders, sifting through people to reach the bar. As you struggled through James managed to make through all the noise of people shouting, loud music and clinking glasses “Seen it like what?”. Alas you both had reached your destination with a calmed heavy breathing. You order your drinks, holding up your fingers for two, calling out Toohey’s.

You turned to him as he leaned against the wooden counter, his eyes seemingly never left your face since you came here. You just realised that he had asked you a question and jerked into response “Oh sorry!” he smiled, a twinkle in his eye as he slouched over and looked up to you. “I’ve never seen the bar this busy time I came here...” you shook your head trying to describe it and swung your arms in defeat “pfft...” He smiled and perked himself up a little, only leaning on one arm as he gazed out into the stumbling crowd.

The bar tender placed your drinks beside you and you both grabbed them in sync, he took the first drink, curling his lips as the beer made its way down his throat. He turned his attention to you again “You don’t get out much do you?” pointing his drink at you. You snuffled a laugh and followed where his gaze was before, then awkwardly looking into your drink, “Is it that obviously?” then taking your first sip.

He could sense that you became uneasy and patted your shoulder, turning to the bar again, “I only go out when I work, and that’s...” You looked to him as he looked to the roof and pondered, pouting his lip as he did and smiled when he finished “All the time.” You both smiled, then it broke into laughter, his work had him outside most of the time, investigating all the things a person does, and you were cooped up inside, investigating why a person does it. It all seemed so fitting and you couldn’t help but continue to smile, just looking at him as he did with you.

There was a long moment of just that until, a man had bumped James. James looked at him, his smile dropping into a slight frown almost saying how dare you ruin that moment . The man apologised, looking at James for a brief moment until he glanced to you and smiling. You nodded with an amused smile until the man was gone.

James took a drink and chuckled, raising his eyebrows as he set it down. You caught him doing so and he looked at you with almost a petrified look if not for the twinkle in his eye claiming his innocence, “What?” he asked as you raised an eyebrow to him. He knew why you had and shrugged his shoulders setting his drink back down “You’re unapproachable.” He said as if it were a fact. You narrowed your eyes with comedy in your voice “unapproachable?” you repeated, making sure you heard right. He took another drink, seemingly to choke on it a bit as he set it down again, you figured this must have been his way of coping with scenarios that made him anxious.

He nodded profusely and smiled “Yes, since you came in here, I noticed all the men—“ he tried to say the right word but blurted out as he scanned the area, directing his hands over the scene “staring.” He said it as though it was a crime, “But not one of them had come to hit on you.” You smiled sheepishly and tried not to look at him.

You placed your eyes back on him, almost flirtatiously “maybe because I’m with you.” You stated but it ended up sounding more like a question. You witness a grin pulling at his lips. You knew it wasn’t the reason as you did study how the human brain works, female and male. “No. I don’t know about the men where you come from but...” he shook his head as he looked around. You followed his gaze out until he turned his head quickly back to you. “You intimidate them.” You snapped your head to him and furrowed your brow with smile of disbelief breaking your composure, he took that as a question and continued on “A new face, a ...” he made an movement, his head following his eyes movements as he looked you from head to toe “nice style.”

You giggled and felt a blush coming on, you tried to conceal it, looking around and catching the eyes of a few guys standing around. You couldn’t believe, you didn’t think much of your looks but now when you paid mind to people around you, you began to believe what James had said.

You puckered your lips trying to hide an evident smile as you met James’ eyes again and offered a challenge, “Alright. If I’m so unapproachable “ you gave him an obvious look and he chuckled, “I pose a challenge.” You took a long drink and he looked at you with interest, “Go on” he said slyly. Setting your drink down you tried to remember the rules of the game you played at university with your old friends “By the end of this hour, you have to collect as many numbers as you can. The loser has to drink as many drinks that the winner has exceeding over losers score. One person sits alone, while the other hunts.” He laughed at the last world and nodded, pouting his lips and accepted. “I’ll be staying here since I’m so unapproachable.” You winked and he chuckled as he walked backwards giving you the watch me signal, you shook your head and laughed as he approached a small group of girls and they begin to giggle as he spoke.

You raised your eyebrows, impressed as he waved a piece of paper in the air toward you.

Fifteen minutes had passed and there was still a solid 20 minutes until it was 8 P.M. You looked at your watch, and James reunited with you, pulling out a reasonable abundance of ripped papers from his pockets. He gave you a look an egotistical look, you pursed your lips together and shrugged your shoulders, obviously not collecting anything. He kissed his teeth as he leaned against the bar nodding, “...unapproachable” he said with a chuckle in his chest, You pointed your finger at him scornfully “There’s still..” looking to your watch “fifteen minutes left” he nodded and left the bar again to gather more numbers he would never call, hopefully you thought.

Before long, a couple of men had started sitting next to you at the bar, ordering drinks and always asked if you wanted one, you’d accept and start a conversation, minutes in the conversation, he’d openly give you his number, and sometimes, you knew you had them and suggest that you were a therapist and for good measure, giving you their number was a good move. It was really cheating; you were just using your profession as an advantage.

By the end of the hour, you started to become slightly tipsy, you accepted drinks right left and center, joined games, and when James had finally met you again, you hid a smile as you returned to the bar. He presented fewer more pieces of paper than he had before, but he had a look that said you were pretty much defeated. You smiled smugly and emptied the small papers from your clutch and gave him a victorious look. There was clearly more than he had collected.

You rubbed your neck as if it truly was an effort and sighed sarcastically “Unapproachable...” He giggled and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I... I am speechless.” You chuckled at his conceded response and pointed at him lazily as the alcohol was really getting to you now, “and You’re not drunk yet” You ordered as many shots there were more of numbers on your side. The bartender looked at you broodingly, you could only really notice that he was bald with a thick red beard, tattoos sprawled up his arm.

You also noticed that he thought the drinks were for you as you were seemingly being affected by the alcohol more and more “There not for me!”.

He nodded and within minutes, brought a tray to James and raised an eyebrow “Good luck mate” and walked off. James in turn, tilted his head back, whipping it front again, then back again, and so on until most of the shots were gone.

“How many is that?” he blinked his eyes, it looked as though he was ready to throw up, craning his neck back hoping to ease the burn.

You looked to the tray and counted with great difficulty “six, you got three more” you groaned and tried to keep balance. You giggled like a school girl.

“I think I’ll just come back to that.” He leaned close to you, obviously he didn’t take measure at how close he was, as he was bumping your shoulder lightly “I like these games... I propose one myself” You bit your bottom lip and smiled “Now that we are noticeably drunk... Drunker?” he managed with great difficulty to speak sense. “In fifteen minutes, you have to kiss as many people you can, the only way of recording this is that the other has to witness it.” You hid your face from embarrassment. This was definitely not your strong game. You felt your face grow hot as a blush had snuck up on you, he raised his hands in question with a straight face, he knew that you were uncomfortable with the game but went on “believe me, it’ll be fun” he chuckled.

You nodded in agreement, why not try something new, seeing how you were never out of your house anyway. You clapped his hands and pointed you to a guy, You expressed a desperate look as you had to be the first, but nonetheless you approached the man. He watched intently, sipping at his beer, as you caught his eyes before you whispered something into the man’s ear and he kissed you passionately. You felt nothing on the other hand, and you returned to James’ side.

He laughed at you hysterically, his face going red before managing, with great effort, to compose himself. You removed your jacket and acted with sobriety, clasping your hands together, you search the crowd for a difficult competition. You pointed in the direction, and a few minutes later he returned with a smudge of red over his lips. You didn’t think you’d like a game such as this but with James, it was very enjoyable.

After a good ten minutes of this, between kisses shared amongst strangers, and ordering drinks after another, you concluded to your last caresses. This time you thought you’d change the opposition.

Once you acquired your target, you dragged James through the crowd. You looked back to him as you lead him, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. You stopped behind the same man that bumped him earlier. You bumped him a little as he did first and he turned around, he smiled to you. “Hey, could you do me a favor?” he tried boldly, his grin widened and you pointed to James, he looked away regretfully. You whispered in the man’s ear and he tried to hold back an uncontrollable laugh. “Yeah sure!” He waltzed to James, the man was considerably taller than James, and as James turned to face him, the man snuck his lips of James. You quickly took a snap picture of this moment and laughed wickedly and loudly, James gave you an angry look and pointed a figure sternly at you.

You bit your bottom lip as the man pulled away and traveled to you and placed the same kind of kiss on your lips. You hurried your way to James and linked your arms with his, leading him back to the bar.

“I can’t believe you made me do that” James said before taking a sip from his almost finished beer. You giggled and nodded approvingly after you swallowed some of your own “It looked like you enjoyed It.” he shook his head with a shy smile, you opened the picture on your phone and showed him “see, look.” He tried to object, even though it was obvious he wasn’t enjoying by the look he held on his face.

He tried snatching the phone but you pulled it back faster than he had reached out. He reached further for it as you leaned back, and finally he got out of his seat and wrapped his arms around you so you couldn’t move any further away, still trying for the phone. You managed to keep it away successfully until he started trickling his fingers and grabbing your sides, making you wriggle with intense laughter “Ah! NO!” you tried to object but the laughing made it all so much harder.

“Give me the phone!” he demanded but you refused which only made you suffer more. You turned around in his arms, now facing him front on. He was so close, you could feel his breath warm your skin, and he could feel your noses touching. The wriggling and tickling ceased as you stared intimately into one other’s eyes. He opened his mouth slightly and before anything came out he unlatched himself.

“Want some air?” he asked suddenly you accepted and he pulled out his wallet, placing notes on the bar and followed you out the bar.

By now the streets were emptying as the bar had before you left, you walked in the cold air. He started off the conversation with the end of the game, “so, to come to a tie, the players must kiss each other” You giggled and shook your head “You made that up” you said, unconvinced. “I thought it was worth a shot” he replied with laughter in his tone.

You spoke of all the embarrassing moments kissing strangers, explaining that there was one man that felt as though he was going to eat your whole face. You laughed as you had never laughed before in a long time, explaining his story after, you shared the same laugh. However your words were quite mumbled as the alcohol still had an effect on your mind.

He alarmed with a sudden personal question “So it’s been a while since you tried something like that? With your boyfriend?” You laughed nervously and kept your eyes on the ground passing by slowly, but you could feel his gaze intently on you. “I shouldn’t hav—“ he started, but you felt bad for making him feel worse “No, it’s okay. We were on good terms when we broke up. He joined the army, posted in Afghanistan, and I had to move to England, for psychology.” You felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders, it did feel good when you talked about things, but on a personal level, you tried not to get into that, with James, it just felt natural as it rolled out your mouth. “Ah...” you supposed he understood, but his situation was much more complicated.

“you’re lucky, not many people can do that. I remember my wife shrieking that I should’ve married the killer and other nonsense. Well, not nonsense. She did have a point. I was obsessed with the case; my hair grew long, as well as a rugged beard. I looked like a hippie.” You giggled at the thought and apologised for laughing “I’m sorry I shouldn’t laugh.” He smiled to dispel the feeling. “It’s alright.” There was a long moment of silence, until he continued on “The relationship was going downhill anyway. She always said I paid more attention to my profession, and that’s when she found Matt.” You winced as you knew what Matt meant. He pursed his lips and shrugged.

You managed to get to the mound that told you it was half way before a silence had emitted in the air. You felt your feet slip and your head spun as you stumbled on his chest, hands gripping his jacket for support. You panicked as you gazed into his eyes; they looked as though they were glowing like the stars in the sky. He caught you, wrapping his arms as he had in the bar, embracing you so you couldn’t fall or get away. You stared wide eyed as his eyes traced from your own to your lips and back again.

They looked so intense, and you figured that was your queue to get off of him. “Sorry... The heels, I’m sorry--” you tried to apologise again, it was cut short as he crashed his lips into yours. You breathed in sharp, closing your eyes to what seemed like an automatic response.

You felt the warmth of him against you, his mouth soft, shifting your head so he could deepen the kiss. His lips felt unreal, not only were they rosy but they matched the velvet texture. He traveled his hand over your back, in response you slid your hands up from his chest to his neck and pulled. This was definitely a kiss put off for far too long.

He tightened his arm around the small of your back, forcing you to lean in close. As you did, your hips pushed against his, you heard a small moan escape from his throat and you smiled underneath the kiss. He parted slightly so you could both gain air from the long kiss, and immediately returned his lips on yours. You motioned your waist closer to his and his hand smoothed over your figure from inside your jacket, and you felt a growing stiffness below.

A sudden hunk and cheer interrupted as a passing car full of guys’ sped pass. You promptly separated and nodded to the car as it drove by. You finally looked at one other and smiled shyly.

“Well, I guess that ends the game!” you joked, shrugging his shoulders, he smiled earnestly and attempted a straight face “Who do you think the winner is then?” you titled your head back, conviction substantially stuffing your voice “Ohoho, We all know it’s not you.” He gave you a pained smile, and further narrowed his eyes with fake suspicion “Really? Cause I swore I thought you liked that.” You laughed as he knew you did but you denied it as a lie, not succeeding in convincing any one “you thought wrong.”

You continued walking for a couple of minutes until the stone wall that declared you estate (which was fairly large) started. You declared that he should head back now as his hotel was back in town, he tested if you’d be okay walking the rest of the way and you persuaded him to head back and he did so, walking backwards for a couple of meters before waving goodbye.

When you entered your house, you felt so flustered, leaning against the door as you couldn’t stop smiling, still feeling slightly intoxicated. There was something so healthy about James, there was an air that made you want to breath it in all the time, he made the days seem so short when you were with him, and the other’s when he wasn’t there felt stretched.

You heard rummaging through the kitchen and you were curious to find out who it was, you assumed Harold, but when you neared the corner, Michael appeared holding a mug. He almost looked as surprised as you did, despite you jumping at the sudden shock of him. He had a spring in his step as he greeted you and buzzed through the kitchen, preparing the kettle.

You couldn’t help but smile at the energy he had right now, it looked like he was dancing around the kitchen as he placed things on the island, and switching back to the kettle, than pulling out a chair for you. You chuckled at his mannerism, it was just so... You couldn’t describe it. It felt like each time he visited he was buttering you up before killing you, but that was never the case. You decided to suspect nothing of him, mostly because you were still drunk, which amplified the small thoughts in your head, but partly because you wanted to enjoy the feeling that James left you with, although you felt guilty you were going to share it with Michael.

He made his way toward you, holding out a hand in offering like a dance. You gripped it gently and he led you to the chair. Passing by him, you stumbled again, into his side, twice in one night! Pull yourself together Fae you thought grudgingly to yourself. You dared meet his eyes as he held you carefully in his arms; he looked down into your delicate face, you noticed he held his breath as he held you close and even a blush form under his skin. He helped you back on your feet, supporting you to your chair without ever meeting your gaze until his redness had gone away.

When you sat down, you looked at what had rested on the plate. They were small malformed chocolate chip cookies, most of them black at the rim. You giggled at his efforts and he turned around from the kettle and half smiled “what?” he asked blamelessly. You nodded with consent, trying very hard to hold back a laugh, “They’re lovely.” You couldn’t hold it anymore as you let a loud laugh go. You covered your mouth instantly and he smiled, gritting his teeth in amusement. “Hey, I was following your instructions, that’s what it did with my biscuits” he pointed a finger on the hand that held a steaming mug.

You laughed and pointed at yourself as if you were being blamed when you were innocent “My biscuits turn out fine, you just don’t have a hand in cooking.” He laughed heartedly as he sat next to you and handed the mug to you.

“Coffee?” you smiled and took an immediate sip. What had made you trust him that he didn’t put anything in it? Nothing, you just took the risk, you were so sure that he couldn’t harm you. But you didn’t know the reality of his nature as you didn’t have the proper time to investigate it.

He looked to his hands nervously as he played with them, “I uhm... I want to talk to you about something before you think...” he stopped and looked at you pleadingly. Your brow twitched as you felt a ball unsettle your gut. “I am a murderer. I have killed, raped and mutilated countless women.” He stopped for a long moment, you didn’t feel as much fear as you should’ve when he said this, it must have been the tone he used as you knew he was asking for your help, which strangely, made you feel like his well being was your responsibility, that you were the only he could trust.

When he glanced from his hands again, you thought he must have been expecting a disturbed face, but it was met with empathy. His form had relaxed considerably as he managed a small smile, it didn’t make things better, but it made him glad you were here.

He continued on, more confidence in his voice as he projected “I had a girlfriend once. I remember that I was going to propose to her on the night of our 6 year anniversary. When I thought I’d surprise her, coming home early from work, I...” he swallowed a lump that formed in his throat, he shook his head as though he couldn’t go on. You reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers, that looked so small around his, he squeezed it tenderly and continued “She was fucking my best friend...” he shook his head again, but not that he was sad, because he felt a swell of anger erupt in the back of his mind.

He clenched his jaw along with his free hand and still went on. “I grabbed the hammer from my tool kit, and my mind and body went numb. But when I connected the hammer into their skulls that just caved in, with the pudgy flesh underneath, I felt a rush, I felt so...” he searched for the words and he had some sort of glee in his eyes. This had scared you a little, but you could understand where he was coming from.

You understood that he was suffering, that all these girls, you assumed represented his girlfriend and the random males he would find were portrayed as the ‘Matt’. You assumed that because he wasn’t home most of the time, that his girlfriend became sexually frustrated with him and he with her, assuming that this was the reason for the rape. But the mutilation... you still couldn’t quite add the rest of the equation.

He met your eyes again, waiting for a response, you knew he didn’t want a deduction, he just wanted for somebody to listen, and for him to confess, for anyone to confess was a large step.

You felt a wave of nausea pool your mind and you figured just what he needed. “You want a drink?” you asked with total interest in the question, he raised an eyebrow, you really did peak his fascination. He was waiting for solemn silence, for a cracked voice, trying to analyse him, instead you had offered something for him as a friend would.

You left your seat and grabbed a bottle of Jonnie Walkers and poured to short glasses, setting one down beside him. You removed your jacket and gulped the burning liquid down your throat. You saw through the transparency of your glass that he raised his eyebrows in a bland surprise and he did followed the same motions.

He pulled his lips as the amber had rolled in his stomach and he wiped his mouth lightly “So was that your boyfriend?” he asked, you were put in a very tight spot as he mentioned the words and referring to James. “uh...” you tried to think of what James was, he wasn’t really a patient, nor were you able to call him a friend as you did enjoy his company extensively. “No.” You weren’t sure if it was a lie or not, but Michael seemed to take it as a lie, side glancing you with a smile pricking at his lips.

You poured him another drink with struggle; you began to regret taking more drinks, but thought it was for the better for Michael. He brought the cup to his lips, before letting the liquid enter his mouth, he further questioned of James “So who is he?” you laughed and gave him a Do you really want to know look. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows as he spilled the drink into him.

You watched his lips part from the glass, moist and the lingering taste of fiery bourbon. You wanted to taste them, but when you noticed you were staring, you almost forgot he was asking you a question “He’s a.... Patient” you tried. He muffled a laugh and continued on getting information “What’s he do for a living?” he poured himself another drink and you smiled wickedly at him. You were sure what he was getting at.

“Are you jealous? Mr. Fassbender?” he almost choked on his drink and gave an obvious indication that he was trying not to seem jealous. The shrug of his body looked awkward and he pulled a ridiculous face “Why would I be jealous? If you want to date a person, that’s fine.” You felt like you had no self control as you lightly tapped his arm and laughed. “Alright then, he is my boyfriend.” He gave you a helpless, almost pained look, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Ah, so you are jealous!”

He shook his head, by now you were sure the alcohol was taking effect as he looked like child denying a crime he had committed. “No. Nope, not jealous.” He shifted in his seat and leaned on the island top. “How about we play a game?” pouring you another drink. “Trying to change the subject?” you brought it to your mouth but he touched your hand and pulled it away.

“Never have I ever.” You titled your head back in annoyance but still a broad smile on your face. This was one game that you always won at. “Here we go” you began, but he ignored it, well tried to as he tried to hide a smile, holding his cup up “Never have I ever owned a chess board.” You narrowed your eyes at the most random query, he raised an eyebrow in response, assuming that you had, you shook your head with disbelief and drank. “You nerd” he jested. Again he asked again, and you drank. Again.

You couldn’t believe that you were in fact at a tie, or seemingly enough, as you both become quite intoxicated. Your minds began to buzz as you started to laugh over something that one of you have or haven’t done.

You composed as it was your turn and you taunted your consciousness as you had looked very seriously at him “Never have I ever had sex in the last year.” he jerked his head in amazement “Really!?” you nodded with complacence and he drank. You tried again to make him drink, and you didn’t care much if he was a killer or not, your mind was becoming senseless as you stated the next fact about yourself “Never have I ever had sex with a dead body.” He raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger of warning and took another drink. “You better watch yourself...” he asked, sounded like a frog was stuck in his oesophagus. You smiled and poked your tongue out and he giggled. A hiccup escaped his stomach and you laughed at the sudden sound.

After a long minute, you saw the smile dissipate from his being, there was something going on in that head of his, and you were too drunk to figure it out, so instead of trying to analyse him like a common specimen to be dissected, you apologised “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He let out a long breath and looked to you. His eyes were damaged, they were tired, they were careless, but you glimpsed a shimmer of hope, you saw something that made you easy around him.

You looked to his hands again, and the moment of laughter and jokes was long passed. To change the mood, your mind had thought of an impulsive thing to lift the spirits, “Never have I ever thought I’d do this...” he looked to you, and before he could react, you leaned in close to him, feeling his breath escape his lungs as you drew closer, with every measure, slowing your approach. Noses touching, you felt his heat radiate as you leaned, you sensed he was going to sense something, but you caught the words as you touched your lips to his, feeling him breath you in as you had.

He swirled his tongue intrusively into yours and it was a delight. You shifted your head like when you did this with James, but he was much the last thing on your mind at the moment. You felt your teeth grind against the other’s, this felt so good as you did it again, pushing his tongue in and pinning yours so it couldn’t explore his mouth. You breathing had sunk deeper into your chest as you struggled for breath.

You almost suffocated yourself and when you pulled away, you didn’t want to meet his eyes, which were set on you, and you could feel the concern as he felt he did something wrong. Before he could say anything, you interjected the silence, turning to him “I’m sorry, I’m just drunk and still on a high and—“ before you could say anything else, he launched up from his seat and placed his lips back onto yours. He towered over you now, craning his neck down so your lips never parted again. You traced your hand on his arms again; he moaned in your mouth as they slid onto his sides, he in turn pulled your neck with one hand and on your waist with the other.

You traveled your fingers over his torso, pulled at his neck lightly, tracing his jaw line, and the other hand running through his short, dark, messy hair. Your minds were out of place, but there was something gnawing at you indicating that this, him and you is what you needed, what was right.

You yelped as he grabbed the top of your thighs and lifted you over his waist, still never abandoning you with his lips. You wrapped you r legs tight around him and he pressed you against the wall as he kissed you again and again, over and over until you ran out of air, only stopping for a brief moment then restarting cycle again. You could feel movement in his pants as you he pinned you against the wall, but before you could make a note on it, he removed you from the wall, and made his way to your room. Starting from here, it began to get black for the both of you.

You could only remember a few scenes playing out. You remembered him placing you on the bed, him on top as he caressed you with passionate, air sucking kisses. You remember his moving to your neck, nipping at it, clutching your waist as he rocked lightly over top. You remembered the last thing, moaning your name in your ear. “Oh... Fae...”

Until the word had spun into darkness and there was only the sound of his breath against your ear, his kisses embracing your skin. And finally, there was nothing.


	7. Can't Take My Eyes Off You.

Michael had awoke as the sun had only started making light to the dark sky, gazing out the large windows of your room. You lay beside him, on him, you were quite close but he admired the intimacy as he looked out from the brightening gray sky, to your lovely features, still in comatose state as you dreamed. He stoked your hair from your face and smiled, this caused you to stir awake and you met his eyes.

You were quite surprised that he had stayed the night, but you were also very concerned if you had tried anything with him. He creased his eyebrows as you shifted on his bare chest, and under his gentle hands. “Sorry if I woke you” he said with regret but you smiled sweetly, detaching yourself, feeling the cold immediately. You tried you to cover yourself as best as you could with the sheets, feeling that only your under garments had stayed on.

“You stayed the night.” It sounded more like a question than a statement as you looked over your shoulder to him. You spotted a small sadness in his eyes, as he watched you leave his side, you felt sympathy and wanted to snuggle back up to his side but you knew the moment passed. You shook your head and tried to rephrase it “what I meant was... You usually leave before morning come.” You justified, but he smirked only slightly.

He flipped the covers from over his legs, which had his jeans over, his zipper and button open, you sneaked a glance, subconsciously and tried to look away before he noticed. He stretched high up and laughed. “—sorry... I uhm...” you didn’t know what to say as the glance was quite clear, he opened the door and you marveled at his toned back muscles, “there’s nothing to be sorry for, you were only curious.” He winked at you as he leaned in the door way, face resting on the door and holding the knob for support.

“Breakfast?” he asked. You smiled implicating that the idea was spot on. He traveled to the kitchen and you heard rummaging through the kitchen. You could feel a headache hammer in the back of your head, but they never lasted long. What really was bothering you in your twisted little head of yours was that there was no awkwardness for him staying the night; there was no worry of his watching you until you awoke. The look he had when you left his side had especially bothered you, he wanted desperately to share something with someone and you were very aware, you just questioned why it had to be you.

At last, you exit from your bed and tried to find any quick clothes to wear, you spotted his T-shirt and slipped it on, being quite baggy but not enough, you tried on your pyjama shorts and made your way to the kitchen.

\---

The island had continents of plates, toast, condiments, the kettle and a jug of juice. You gaped in amazement and neared a tall stool. He turned slightly to look you up and down “It’s not a bad look.” And winked; you rolled your eyes and sat nearest to the kettle. Moments after, he placed pancakes on the plate in front of you and joined you at the table.

As you sipped your cup of tea, Irish breakfast, ironically, you eyed him as he ate. Without meeting your eyes, he could sense you peer at him the whole time. He entangled his fingers together and rested his chin on them as he looked at you with expectancy of an oncoming question. You lowered your cup and started “Did we...” you tried, of course, he knew what you were getting at, as he always did and shook his head. “No” he said, almost disappointed, as he gulped his juice.

You watched with fascination his throat taking the juice, a thought had slowly emerged, envisioning you kissing that vulnerable neck as he moaned. You shook the thought away and eyed him as you did before. You wondered how he could know that as he was also drunk.

He finished his beverage and looked to you, it really was as if he could read your mind as he furthered on “Not that I know of anyhow...” you cocked your head, he took it as he was either too drunk to remember, or he remembered the whole night up until the bed scene. He took a deep breath in and stared elsewhere, trying not to look at you as he explained his conditions “Usually, when my mind is influenced upon such things, I don’t remember the scenario completely. However, I do recall the sensation I get from...” finally he met your eyes, they were desperate, cold and pained. You realized what he was getting at and you nodded in understanding, averting your eyes so you didn’t have to look at his.

“But, I didn’t feel that last night.” He continued “I just felt... Warm.” You looked to him and he met your gaze with courage it seemed, as if he was staring a lion in the mouth. You didn’t notice it at first, but a smile had played at your lips. You felt... Warm yourself at that moment and he smiled in turn.

\---

You were relieved, but a bit disappointed at the information, only the tiniest fraction disappointed though. He began clearing the table as you finished your breakfast, and asked what you were doing in the week. You pondered and thought hard as nothing came up, hoping you weren’t forgetting anything.

He pulled out from the back of his pocket and handed you an invitation. Newcastle Autumn Masquerade you looked at it with great curiosity, looking at him with a condescending face. “It’ll be fun.” He said, as if you had voiced the expression. You scoffed “I can’t even dance.” You surrendered; he half turned to you and shrugged his shoulders “I’ll teach you.” You smiled, embarrassed as he had a solution for everything. It’s not that you didn’t know how to dance, you were quite alright at slow dancing, but being somewhere as upper class as it was, was definitely out of question.

You suddenly realized the question you should have thought first, “How on Earth did you get this anyway?” holding it like it was some ancient or delicate artifact. He turned back to his clearing off the island. “It was... uhm..” he hesitated but continued with a flat tone “I got it from someone who I thought didn’t need it.” He leaned against the sink and looked at you expectantly.

You raised your eyebrows as you chuckled “I guess there is being perks of being a killer” you said light heartedly, with a laughter in your gut. He joined in and shook his head, pushing off the counter and made his way to you. “You’re twisted.” You laughed harder at the irony.

He extends his hand for you to take it, gesturing a dance, you shake your head in polite refusal. After a moment of waiting there, you sighed and lightly grasped his hand; he pulled you straight off your seat and into his arms, tumbling more like. He held you close and the warmth of his bare chest sent flares inside your stomach to go off. This was, to say the least, much too close for comfort, as you began to heat up in the face as well as the rest of your body.

He allowed you to gain a comfortable standing position, which was a good two feet away from his own body. He chuckled at the distance, obviously still grasping the concept that two dancers must be close, he unexpectedly pulled you in closer from the small of your back, just above of where your back turns into your bottom. You waited for his hand to slide down, but as he began to sway it never did. But, it did make you slightly on edge as your hips grazed each other.

You constantly looked to your feet, making sure not to step on his toes, but each time, he pulled your chin up. You would try to keep it like that, but you always found yourself, being forcibly back to his cold stare. He let a smile pass on his lips and craned his neck. You didn’t notice until he did this that he was quite tall. “You won’t hurt me.” He assured you, and this had helped you to remain your focus on his eyes.

You winced and he looked at you with suspicion, “It’s kind of weird without music.” He chuckled and began humming ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’. You giggled and leaned your head against his chest to hide your face in second hand embarrassment. “Oh god...” you breathed to yourself.

You swayed gently around the kitchen, and when he reached the chorus, he started to sing loudly, stepping out from you whilst holding your hand, with the momentum making you spin in his arms, then leaning you in his arms towards the ground. Your face was sore from an everlasting smile and he had a twinkle in his eyes as he held you there.

Finally pulling you back up, his pace had quickened, you assumed he was doing the waltz as he practically made you float off the ground. You threw your head back as he spun you. When he came to an abrupt stop, and snapped you back close to him, chest pressing against chest as he huffed. His mouth was open slightly as he breathed heavily with faint evidence of a smile. His eyes weren’t the cold you usually saw, but were strangely warm and tender.

He held you close for a long minute before he finally spoke, “You are the most... twisted, abnormal and fascinating woman I had ever met.” That serene smile had crept up on you again and felt a warm feeling all through your head, “Likewise” you replied. He placed his lips so close to yours, letting them to just skim, before you had permitted him to proceed, but he didn’t wait for a response as he craned his neck more to let them make contact. His lips were cautious as they indulged in the softness of yours. He pulled you closer to his body. You struggled for air as your hands made their way over his chest, to around his jaw, pulling him, implying you wanted more. He in turn, used both his hands to pull more vigorously at your waist, as he walked you against a counter top.

The moment had become as heated as your bodies did, not once had your lips parted as well as your bodies, when finally, he leaned his arms on either side of you as you moved your soft caresses to his jaw line, then to the top of his neck, to slowly move down to his collar bone. It was easy as he leaned over you, towering over you, giving your permitted access to his sensitive receptors.

When your lips had reached the groove of his collar bone and neck, he slipped a moan into your ear, removing one of his hands from the bench top to pull you closer from your lower back, your groin against his. You gasped as you had directly collided with a stiff piece of flesh under his jeans. You felt a little nervous at the feeling, but his hand had eased on your waist allowing you to retreat to a safer distance, when he traded to kiss your neck.

He took a step closer, encasing you in-between his overwhelming body and the kitchen counter. He let his lips kiss just under your ear, slightly behind it which made you moan quietly but he had heard it. He continued on that spot, using his thumb to rub on the one opposite he was caressing. You let a loud breath escape as he hit the exact spot.

You thought something wrong when he stopped suddenly and moved his hands back to the counter top, grabbing and squeezing the edges. He pulled his lips into a thin line and hissed in a breath, distancing his body as he rocked. He looked away from you.

You looked at him with concern, not knowing what was going on, but little did you know that he could feel his mind begin to numb, which in your case would have ended badly.

He removed himself from you and slipped his jacket over his shoulders, doing a good job looking sprightly. “Sorry, I should be on my way. Not much time before I can look for a suit.” You nodded in understanding and off he went, each time he tried to leave, he would peck your lips quickly, and every time he passed you, he’d peck you again, and with every peck, become a longer kiss. Until he had managed you by the door and your were standing front of it and embracing each other’s essence passionately.

When he had finally parted them, he gave a struggled farewell, and one last peck and left.

\---

When he left, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You looked to the clock and then to your phone. It was only 8 A.M. You started work at nine. You sighed, annoyed and went up stairs to look for some clothes. You felt in a chipper from the mood Michael had left you in, and bothered to look through your wardrobe for something to wear for the ball. Evidently, nothing had seemed like a masquerade type of style.

However you did find an outfit for work that matched your mood, light with calm yet energetic colors.

Finally getting ready, you made your way to work, taking your chances with the little gas left you had in your car and drove to work.

\---

Arriving right on time, Miranda greeted you with a smile and you waved happily back. Before traveling up the condensed stair case to your office/second floor, you spun to face her, “What would you wear, say if you were going to a ball...” she looked at you accusingly and was ready to answer when Alex had greeted you. He gave you a relatively thick file for such a small town. You whimpered and pouted your lip. “Hey, you need the practice kiddo.” You rolled your eyes to his response from your pout and made your way upstairs.

You dealt with patient after patient until you finally had a gap for lunch. Just as your break started, your phone had begun to buzz, you looked at the number, not recognizing it you read the contact detail and frowned a little before answering as you made your way down stairs. “How do you like the name?” James Scottish accent came through; you laughed and replied “Debatable” after looking at it more carefully ‘Best Kisser’. You felt a little guilt and it almost showed, but luckily it was only a phone conversation, and it was good that he hadn’t suspected that you were being visited by someone else let alone the killer he was looking for.

He laughs at your quick remark. A silence hung until he spoke again. “Can I ask you a favor? If you’re not busy that is.” You bit your bottom lip, “Yeah, shoot.” You replied, he moaned in awkward demand and spoke again. “Would you be able to help me out over here.” You furrowed you brows and asked him to go on. “Well, see, my team and I are in dire need of a psychologist. Can you supply.” You grinned and said you’d be right down after you get the rest of your few patients done. He warned if you were squeamish. Which could only mean few things, and one of them was that Michael was the cause.

\---

After all your patients, you made your leave and made your chances with your unreliable car, but went along with it anyhow. It wasn’t much of a drive to Halstead from Haverhill, but the stretching fields made it feel longer than it was.

He greeted you outside of an apartment in front of a large pond. He briefed you on what was inside and ensured that you were ok with it, you agreed and argued that you were and he led you inside. You felt dread as you did, as you were about to witness Michaels’ good work, but this would also help you understand him better.

When you entered the room, there was a strong stench of rotting meat, that heaved your lungs up your throat. You covered your nose as it became worse when you made your way deeper into these people’s lives. Forensic scientists took photos, labeled small bags, and dusted areas of assumed finger tips. Before entering a doorway, you almost gagged at the smell, but managed to compose yourself. James had asked once again if you were alright, but you assured him you could go on. He lectured with great anger what had happened to these girls, he wanted to know why, and that why he asked you here.

You looked over the girl who lay limp, her body sticky with bloody paste like substance that had oozed from her side. You realized that this only scratched the surface of what Michael had done. You felt your mind freeze, your core shaking with fright, the man who did this was in my house this morning making pancakes, and kissing... . You couldn’t think straight as you had absorbed this.

James lightly placed his hand on your back, you snapped back to the present and ushered to go on. “If you don’t want to be here I understa—“ he insisted but you persisted “No—no... I want, need to do this” his colleague joined our conversation with little sympathy “She has to see these things if she wants to help.” James looked spitefully at his fellow detective and nodded at you with intense eyes, upon leading you to the next room.

You stared in horror, trying very hard not to show any fear as your eyes set upon a girl tied to her bed frame, slits in her body where closed skin was. Now it became a festering wound with darkened flesh peaking profusely at the site. You managed to keep a composed face, but your mind had panicked, it relapsed into all the deep emotions of fear, terror as this could have been you any day. Until now, you hadn’t realized the depth of the situation you had put yourself in.

James called your name and you snapped back into focus, “So what do you think?” he asked, all business in his calm and collected voice. You shook your head, what could you even say? You were so tongue tied by the thought of the killer being in your own house. “I, uhm...” your voice began shaky but flattened out as you tussled a cough and spoke “He evidently has a need for a surrogate for sexual encounters. He doesn’t have a Vendetta on women as a general; I suppose what these girls specifically represent.” You explained, and the more you explained, the less you became afraid and your thoughts ran on their own.

He raised an eyebrow, “These girls specifically?” he quoted; you nodded and crossed your arms over your chest “Girls that maybe make him sexually frustrated, maybe reminding him of a past, girlfriend or so.” You alarmed yourself a little as you pretty much told James what Michael had told you and you hoped he wouldn’t suspect anything.

He crossed his arms over his chest just as you had and rubbed just under his bottom lip, looking apprehensively on the body. “It’s like you know him first hand...” he stated, again a wave of panic flushed over you. He turned to you full on and leaned in to a whisper “Is there something you’re not telling me?”.

A moment of silence hung, your mouth became dry from anxiety, just as you were about to confess, ready for the shame to be brought to you as hand cuffs clung to your skin, he laughed and lightly smacked your shoulder. “Only pulling your leg.” He joked, you held your head in your hand, Thank God you thought. He obviously did not know why you were so relieved, but you suspected that it was normal for people to become nervous when they are questioned by police, especially detectives at that matter.

You relaxed quite a lot around the crime scene, despite two murder victims laying about the house. At least now, you could take notes more easily without panic running your over with a bus.

You were taking notes on what the Forensic scientist were saying to each other as you stood in the back ground. James paced to your side and watched you—observed you as you did so. You could feel his smile and it became infectious as you shared it, “Would you like to go grab a coffee?” You gave him a side glance and tried to hide the smile, with a twitch of your brow and replied “What a way to ask a girl out.” He laughed and after finishing your note, you turned to him and fake pondered, contemplating if you should as you narrowed your eyes.

He smiled again and you had no choice but to accept.

\---

Moments later, you changed from a crime scene of a brutal murder to a small little cafe down the road. You sipped your coffee, as you sketched lightly in a notepad, two dead roses lying side by side. All the while, you felt James’ compelled stare on you. You gave him another side glance and still, that smile had made you do the same.

You noted how his gaze was always accompanied by a sweet, unintentional smile. Which you thought contrasted remarkably of how Michael looked at you, with wondrous eyes, stern perceiving stare, trying to figure you out, but James, with his easy smile was content to have you in front of him.

What he said next though, intrigued you, leaning close as his eyes never left over your form. “You are the most... Abnormal, and yet fascinating woman I have ever met.” You looked at him with an awed expression did he really just say that you thought. You were a bit freaked out, but you decided to push it in the back of your mind. A recurring thought, however, was how these two men, in such different positions, were so much alike, and had the same effect on you.

Your thoughts were cut short as he asked you a question, “what are you doing the coming week?” he looked into his wallet as his brows furrowed. You couldn’t well say you were going out as it would raise question with whom and where, so instead you lied, “Nothing I don’t think.” He smiled smugly and placed two of the same tickets you saw this morning, “I managed to get two tickets to a Masquerade in Newcastle. Well, in fact a quite snobby friend had given them to me seeing how they didn’t need them”.

You stared blankly for a long moment, and he noticed your distraught look “Are you alright?” You returned to here and nodded. “Yeah.” You said, obviously not listening to what he’d ask, he raised his eyebrows, making sure what he heard was correct “So you’ll come with me to the Masquerade ball?” his voice hopefully and happy. You smiled and nodded, you wanted to share the feeling but could only find dread and regret claw at your gut.

How were you going to juggle these?


	8. Fittings and Clues.

The next day, you had trouble going to sleep when you awoke at 4 A.M. so you decided to read a little bit, then bake a little bit more, some nice red velvet cupcakes. When you had finished all this, it was only 6:45 A.M.

You dressed and decided to go into work early, since you had to walk anyway.

\---

By the time you got there it was only 7:30. Great you were still a half hour early, but you were lucky enough that Miranda was at her reception desk. A thought flashed like lightning in your head and you hurried over to her.

She gave you an amazed look, as you were usually never early. “Look at this, the late bloomer has bloomed into an early bird.” You rolled your eyes and leaned over top of the large mahogany desk. “I need your help.” You said simply with a concentrated face plastered over your features. She returned it with caution, slightly leaning back as if you were going to explode. “Go on...” she hesitated.

You jogged to grab a chair and sit beside her and she looked at you funny. “Ok... hypothetically right, this is a friend who asked me to ask someone that is good with juggling guys, you.” You waited for interjections but disregarded them and went one. She cocked her head to the side as she listened. “What if, say two guys asked you to party, and, they both hate each other, and one wants to kill the other one but the other one has no idea that James is going—I mean guy number two.” You winced as you said his name, but you hoped to god she didn’t notice.

There was a long moment of her just looking at you, “uh... well... ok. What I would do is, go with guy number two, James.” She made a motion, implying that she knew this was in fact for yourself and continued “but go home with guy number 1.” You thought for a second. It would make sense to go home with the guy who just appeared at your house at 2 o’clock in the morning. Your thoughts were cut short as she asked cheerfully “Who’s guy number 1?”, she leaned closer to you in her chair, she knew that this was a bit scandalous even though you haven’t even become aware of it yourself.

“Wait a minute, I have a better question! Since when did you become a player? I thought you hated relationships?” she argued and you chuckled. You assured her it was nothing “Yeah, nothing my sweet little ass.” She replied, piling files and headed them upstairs to Alex.

You were left there to think when you thought that you could play two guys. You shook your head free from thoughts and followed after her, asking for the first patient and began work.

\---

Work had gone by as it normally did, slowly. When you finished, you skipped down the stairs and waved Miranda a happy goodbye, but before you left she called out and asked you to go over to her. You rolled your eyes and complied.

She leaned on the desk as you did this morning and had a wicked smile as you approached, “So what kind of party is it?” she was all too interested but you figured she could help a little bit more with your situation so you confessed “It’s a ball actually. A Masquerade.” She raised her eyes brows and mouthed Wow. Fancy . She moved around her desk and linked her arm with yours, you unwilling walked with her as she lead you to her car. “What about Ale—“ You tried but she continued on “He owes me anyway.” With a devious smile.

\---

When you arrived at her place, you marveled at how spacious it was, but then again, she only had a few things for each public room, besides her room. It was littered with clothing, jewellery, books, a laptop, TV and other paraphernalia.

You breathed in amazement, but you didn’t expect much. She skipped over to her closet and opened a large walk in wardrobe; it looked as though it was a whole separate room. You entered after her and looked at the grand collection of clothing, shoes, and jackets then finally set your wide eyes on her as she stood with her arms in the air as presentation.

“I’m impressed.” You said while shaking your head with bewilderment, she winked and sifted through gowns, formal dresses and cocktail dresses. Each time she picked one out, you’d crease your brow, thinking if it would really go with a masquerade, she always agreed and muttered the words as she looked the length of dresses “masquerade, masquerade... Masquerade. Ah!” she finally found something and swung it out from the tightly packed dresses. She smoothed it over her own body then handed it to you. You turned it over to look at the back. “I can’t wear this!” you refused, she laughed “It’ll look great!, it’s practical, it’s elegant yet devious” she flirtatiously raised her eyebrows and urged you deeper into the closet to try it on.

You did so without any more fuss.

When you waltzed out she gasped in astonishment, covering her mouth and smiled sincerely. It looks amazing! You looked in the mirror, and you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s not half bad.” She smacked your shoulders, “Ok, it’s.... I can’t even describe.” You admitted. What you saw before you, it was truly gorgeous.

You looked the dress over and admired, as you spun to glance at the back. You had to hand it to Miranda, she knew what to dress for.

She urged you to take it home, along with other of her things to match the dress. Luckily you and she were roughly the same size, otherwise, you would be spending a good sum of money trying to find the right shoes, jewellery makeup and all that get up.

\---

Michael stood on the small mantle, playing with the cuffs of the suit of many he was trying on. He pulled the blazer down. The suit fitting like a glove over a hand, but still he wasn’t satisfied.

The store clerk, noticed, but she also noticed that he was also quite dashing. He gave her a quick glance, noticed her devious clothes and returned his attention back to the mirror. He tried to hold back a look of disgust as she approached with a victorious smile, as if she had already won him over. She placed her hands on her hips and looked up to him with a friendly smile “Need help?”At her question, the gears in his mangled thoughts started turning. He smirked back with innocence and she stood on the mantle with him.

She brushed over his shoulders, then on his sides, and luckily for her, no one else was in the store as traced her hands so close to his groin. He clenched his jaw as she did so, trying very hard to mask his disgust, but good thing he had a lot of practice.

“It’s a bit tight.” He said, hoping she would go for the bait, she looked up at him and winked, “Looks tight” she removed herself from the mantle “so what’s the occasion?” she asked, and made her way through the large designer store. “A masquerade” he answered, having to call out as she looked at a few more suits. She nodded in acknowledgment, filtering through the many racks, shelves and even a few mannequins, handing him the collective suit and smiled.

“It’s different and will definitely catch a few creepy masks’ eyes. He grasped the clothes and grinned.

After he changed into this new suit , approval in his eyes as he fixed the blazer. He mesmerized himself and wondered what Fae would look like, but he only wanted to imagine her naked, in a bed, entangled in sheets with messy hair flipped over her shoulder as she would wait for him to join her. He become slightly flustered and his face and chest grew hot, when suddenly his peaceful thoughts were cut short by this Nymph in the store “Lovely isn’t it?”

He took a large breath in and sighed in annoyance at what she had done, noticing the bulge in his pants as he focused back in the mirror. He unbuttoned the blazer and moved back over to the change rooms, without another glance “I’ll take it.”

He unbuttoned the dress shirt and looked over his scars on his chest, again he imagined Fae touching them again as she touched his bare chest for the first time. Once again, the woman disrupted his thoughts, swinging the curtains close as she entered, and slammed her lips over his. He was taken by surprise and stumbled on the bench provided, she climbed over top greedily, gasping for air as she swirled her tongue in his mouth uninvited. He just sat there, placing his hands on her hips as she continued on.

Once she disconnected, she hopped off and wrote on a piece of paper and winked. When she exit, he looked at it, her number, useless to him as he would never call it. Instead he would wait until she was finished and do his business, it was well after dark, and this side of town was quite barren.

He put his clothes back on, and exit the store, sharing one last look with the clerk as she waved with her fingers. He traveled to the parking lot behind the building and stood by the only car that was parked, assuming it was hers.

Assuming right he shifted as she approached the car, fiddling with things in her bag, possibly looking for her keys or phone, but either way, she looked up and a surprised smile invited itself on her face. “Or we could just do it here” she began flirtatiously, he smiled in turn, agreeing to the terms, but thinking of something else entirely of what she meant. “Let me call my girlfriend first.”

She unlocked her phone and the first thing that appeared on screen was a news headline, mug shot of the man standing in front of her. She tried not to look up to make sure, but she already knew. Michael could sense the alarm and made his way over to her on the drivers’ side, she opened the door, but he pressed on it immediately, slamming it shut. He grabbed the phone and her hand in all, a look of horror presenting over her features, he simply looked bored with what was happening.

“That won’t be necessary.” He said with a calm voice, she tried to scream, but he snatched her throat before any sound came out. He slammed her over the car, making her head collide with the hood of it. She lolled her head forward, undergoing a concussion; he continued to squeeze his large hand around her throat. She clawed at these vices, but she struggled as the life was leaving her eyes. She felt an immense panic, when his other hand slid against her exposed thigh and tugged at the garments underneath.

She was afraid to look him in the eye, but what she saw only amplified fear. Michael’s eyes were flat, cold, and dazed in some sort of fashion. Michael hadn’t noticed, but his mind dozed off into that numb world again, only this time, he didn’t need the drugs, he needed only to start the process.

It frightened him a bit, but his bodily instincts of a killer had run the show as he yanked her underwear down, and then fiddle with his belt and zipper. The clerk, attempted to cry, but it was muffled with her assailants hand over her throat. She could only mouth the words please, let me go, please . Michael felt no remorse, or anything at that matter, besides for the feeling of his length move firmly inside this woman. He felt nothing for her, but anger and relief. The anger reminded him of the woman that cheated on him, betrayed him, and had sent him into a spiral of depression and at last madness.

The relief was a bit more complicated. This regime he undergoes was, in some twisted way, to protect Fae. Michael knew if he let himself continue on that night, when she had let him become so intimate, he would predict that this feeling would emerge and nothing he could do would hold him back.

This is why, he thought, he was killing and raping more frequently, because of her, so she could stay safe from him.

The thought of Fae had turned his mind on a guilt trip, and the numbness had receded only a slight, but the sound of the girls screams that had come out from his hand loosening. He immediately tightened his grip, squeezing, tighter and tighter, that anger resurfacing with hot saturated blood in his head. His body went hot as he thrust in deep, thrusting to break, to rip, to tear. He grunted as he pushed her against the car harshly.

He could feel his flesh ready to release, it was throbbing inside her, and his mind throbbed in sync with the most impure thoughts, and of course, Fae had come along once more, but instead of feeling guilt and shame, he felt an immense want—need for her. He thrust again, hard, but before he could cum, he threw her of him and let her drop to the concrete, hard on her side. She clutched for her throat, coughing as she tried to crawl away.

He looked over her with demeaning eyes and disgust written over his face. He fixed his appearance, zipping his pants and tightening his belt. The fabric felt tight around his crotch, but he never minded it as he flipped a blade from his back pocket.

She moaned in desperation, she wanted to live; she wanted to get away from this psychopath. She screamed as Michael snapped her head back with her hair, further putting a foot at the base of her back, and continued to pull. She screamed and screamed, until the noise was numb to his head, he felt ecstasy once again flood his mind. It brought him peace as he could feel something tear, his eyes saw the skin from her scalp disconnect.

He let her go and she had wailed, laying limp on the floor as a few shrugs had moved her body from the sobbing. Michael felt no pity, he only felt numb, with traces of rage and bliss cloud his mind. No thoughts had swum through his mind, but his body acted on this piece of work anyway.

He observed her as she tried again, to crawl, knees and arms weak from pain, an evil grin splitting his flat features, knowing her attempts were in vain. He swung his arm and embedded the knife in the side of her thigh, pulling it out as blood had made its way out easily. He imagined it as his cock, readily letting loose of the liquids, but that never came to him tonight, he wanted to save it for a more special time.

He let his face drop into a blank expression and snatched her ankle and dragged her to the curb. She uselessly fought, her voice hoarse from all the screaming, her face bloodied with her partially scalped head.

He dropped her leg once her head hung over the curb. He sat directly over her head, and she begged to let her go. Something in his mind had released him from the high, but he remained composed as he spoke “I know you wouldn’t understand why I was doing this... but it’s to protect someone.” He turned to look at the girl and smiled like a chump. “I really like this girl, and... I just want to...” he motioned with his hands to try and convey what he tried to say, and he looked to the girl if she knew what he meant. He jerked as she spat blood from her mouth into his face “fuck you” she said with a lip curl.

He wiped his eyes free from the blood and nodded, obviously she didn’t. He stood up, rolled her over, she tried to move but he kicked her hard in the ribs. She lay there holding her sides, and Michael had to time his strike, the haze taking over his mind again, mixed with a storming anger, lined his foot mentally with her head. He raised his foot and rammed it on the back of skull.

He felt something shatter. Her teeth as they made a harsh contact with the pavement. She sobbed and moaned, responding he slammed his foot in the back of her head again, crushing her skull.

When he was satisfied, and huffed, only then did he finally stop. He shoved his hands in his pockets after grabbing his box with his suit and led on into the night.

\---

The next morning, James received a call, it was 6 A.M. in the morning as he struggled and squinted to look at the bright screen of his phone. He left his bed, with just his pyjama pants on and dressed, heading off.

When he arrived he winced at the scene. He was used to it, but it always brought him a distasteful emotion and a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. One of the forensics removed the blanket of the woman; he jerked his head back as he saw the aftermath of Michael’s art project. “Jesus...” he hissed. One of his colleagues approached James as he did his best not to look away as the scientist examined her. “It’s funny, he didn’t bother finishing up in her, and there’s no traces of his—that kind of DNA anywhere."

James gave him a side glance. It was new for Michael, but not worth note taking, so the other detectives thought. He couldn’t help but wonder why here, why out in the open where anyone can see him or hear him. James scanned over the area and grimaced as he saw a tailor’s sign at the corner of the parking lot.

He pointed to the woman without looking at her; still his eyes did not tear from the back of the building. “Millers, quick, what was her profession?” he urged, his fellow detective returned back to his side, glancing from the woman splayed on the ground then to James. “She worked in a shop called Hig—“Higgins and Browns” James finished. He pointed to the tailor.

Millers looked at James confused, but James assured it was nothing. He said quickly that he’d go in for questioning and to get a tailoring for the Masquerade. Millers shook it off as nothing to take note of.

\---

He entered the store; it looked quite barren if not for a young, petite man slouched over the front desk, his nose intently on a magazine. James chuckled a little as he saw the images of women posing. He approached the desk and waited until the man was done making faces at the woman and the pictures of clothing.

The young dainty man perked himself up, holding on to the desk to brace himself for the damage this time. He mouthed the words with sarcastic amazement oh wow , looking over James. “What can I do for you today Mr. Posh hobo, or rather stressed out office worker?” his gay lisp emphasizing the distaste for James rugged appearance. James smiled and tried to act an all seriousness as he ventured through the room, touching shirts, blazers and trousers as he walked by them. “I’m looking for a suit to wear...” he replied vaguely, he felt the smaller man’s presence behind him and felt him tense as he grabbed a grey blazer and white dress shirt.

James turned to see the man’s reaction as he patted them over his body. “So what do you think...” he squinted his eyes to see better the clerks name tag, “Jonathan?” The little man crossed his arms over his chest and kissed the front of his teeth. “Well... if you want to look as though all life has been drained out of you, yeah, by all means, wear that.” James smiled and returned the clothing to their racks.

James continued walking, flicking through jackets. “I also need help on a former colleague of yours.” He gave the suits an intense look before looking to Jonathan. The clerk averted his eyes, become tense indicated by his shoulder dropping. “Samantha was a close friend of mine... an...” he tried but held back a sob as he daintily wiped tears from his eyes. “And now she’s lying on the ground just outside of this parking lot and I’m here working her shift. The gods must be cruel.” He rubbed his arms to comfort himself.

James placed his hands on the small man’s shoulders and met his eyes sternly, without any trace of a lie, “I promise you, I will bring this man to Justice.” Jonathan scoffed, wiping more tears away. He tried to change the subject as he pointed at James in his choice of clothing, “But first, let’s find some Justice for that nice physic of yours.”

James tried to smile, but it was overrun by an impending sadness. He tried to lighten the mood by picking out more outfits for the Fashionista’s amusement. He looked at him pleadingly and the clerk shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“It really depends on the occasion.” The tailor said, James struggled with the words as they escaped “Masquerade ball...” Jonathan spun on heels and smiled with excitement. “Oh lord then you need a professionals help. Good thing I’m here.” He turned back around and proposed a small game to keep both their minds off of the sad subject, but both knew they would have to come back to it. “I pick something out for you and you pick something out for yourself, on the count of three we show one another their outfit.”

James accepted and chose a dark blue/blue suit, with a red tie and white dress shirt; to him it didn’t look half bad, but doubted it was Masquerade material. When Jonathan began on three, James turned around, struggling to set up an appropriate presentation. He looked at Jonathan’s choice and gaped his mouth and a look of approval, Jonathan had a look of condescension. James looked at his own suit and pulled an agreeing expression.

The tailor fitted him and gave the set suit. James bought it, delighted with his purchase; he attempted again to gain a little bit more information on his friends’ killer.

“I’ sorry that I can’t help you, I really wish I could.” He apologized, and at that James, felt a large disappointed feeling churn his mind and he left. Before he could leave, the clerk called him back, saying he had an idea. “If she and this Michael were the only ones in yesterday night, I could look into what was purchased last. Maybe that could help you out?” James filled with hope as did the young man’s eyes. “That would be fantastic” he replied to the man’s idea.

He rushed back to the crime scene, Millers looked at the box with his suit in it and met James’ eyes. “Really, McAvoy?” he asked scornfully, James ignored the remark and made his way to his car. “Where you going?” his colleague demanded. “To see a friend” he shouted without giving him a second look.

On the way to Haverhill, he wanted to tell his squadron of Michael's supposed plans. James was so sure that he was going to attend the ball, he felt and overwhelming feeling of his certainty, why else would he buy a suit as exquisite as that. And it was a perfect plan too, going to a Masquerade to pray on oblivious victims.

James slammed the wheel at the thought of how many people could be endangered. He knew he couldn’t call the rest of the detectives; it would alarm too much suspicion and would cause Michael to be wary, ultimately leading to another escape.

\---

Upon reaching your house, he knocked at the door, ecstatic to find a new clue that only he could share with you. He knocked again more hastily, he waited but no response came. He barged the door open and rushed through the house. He noticed music blaring, Body Electric by Lana Del Rey playing loudly. He heard stumbling come from your room. He dreaded at what could be happening, and just like his feeling that he had Michael would show up at the ball, he had that same assurance that you were being under siege by him.

He rushed to your room calling out your name, barging through the half opened door, he stopped promptly in his tracts, eyes wide with his eyebrows high over them, and mouth slightly gaped and a smile twitching at the corners. He watched you intently as you had your back turned to him, still singing along to the song, slithering the black dress off your hips as you did so, exposing your almost bare bottom and bare back.

You didn’t notice that he was standing there until you only, turned the slightest and caught him standing in the door way. You jolted in action, catching/hiding your exposed breasts hoping he wouldn’t see them, yelping at his sudden presence, you tried to remove yourself but the dress pooling at your feet restricted you and tumbling you went to the floor, hitting your head hard on the way down, knocking yourself unconscious.

\---

When you awoke, you rubbed the soreness in the temple of your head; you felt a pulsing breeze as you opened your eyes to see James, watching you with assiduousness and distress as he fanned you. You panicked a little as you felt yourself still bare. Trying to sit up, he hushed you back down and you noticed that his jacket covered your torso.

“I’m terribly sorry... I thought you were in trouble” he managed with a faint smile teasing his lips. You laughed as you furrowed your brow slightly. You shifted in his arms, trying again to sit up, this time he allowed you to.

You leaned against the bed as he leaned against your dresser, arms resting on his bent knees. You weren’t sure what to talk about as it was a pretty revealing situation, but he started, leaving all thoughts of what had happened to disappear. “Michael is going to be at the ball.” You snapped your eyes up, how on Earth did he know? you thought. You questioned yourself if James knew the affair you and Michael bore.

Despite your uneasiness, he went on, assuming it was because a killer would be attending an eveny that now, you had no choice but to join. “He’s also killed another girl...” it almost surprised you, but you felt odd, it alarmed you that you didn’t feel anything as he said this. You rose an eyebrow when you just took in that his tone was different, it was intrigued. “It’s probably nothing, but– okay this may sound pretty confronting, but nonetheless—he didn’t cum inside of her, as he usually does with his female victims.”

You were taken by complete surprise at James words. A wave of numbness pushed itself into the front of your head, and everything seemed so much larger than you were. You squeezed the bridge of your nose; you felt you couldn’t grasp anything right now. However, you were understanding Michael a little more now, especially as you heard James voice echoing in your head, He didn’t cum inside of her, as he usually does with his female victims.

He raped the women because he was sexually frustrated, but the fact he was cuming inside may have suggested a few things, especially at the fact that he found his wife screwing a guy named Matt on the eve of his proposal. You assumed that he was preying on victims like these girls because they represent his girlfriend, but the fact that he wanted his seed in them was due to the want to start a family.

You sat there in silence for a long time, until James had decided to attempt on gaining a little more information “What do you think it means? Changing his habits on such a manner?” His voice was flat and steady as he interrogated. “Well, if he has a set way of killing them, first the hunting, then the playing then finally, termination, it indicates he is a creature of habit when he needs to sustain himself.” You rubbed your face as you said this, when you met James’ eyes, he raised in eyebrow for you to go on.

“Changing his habit would have to mean either, he’s found another nourishing factor, or that he didn’t have time to complete his cycle.” You both knew what it meant, he had the time to completely crush her skull, as James informed you, but why hadn’t he gone along with his normal system. “I think we’ll be going with answer number 1.”

After you dressed yourself he asked with great concern if you’d be OK for the night. You assured him time and time again that you would be absolutely fine. Although your voice and posture said you were confident this was true, something in the back of your mind, had the tiniest fraction saying you weren’t.

\---

After he left, you looked through your cupboards to see if you wanted anything. Your face dropped into a frown as you witnessed almost everything was empty. You decided to call up a taxi and go groceries shopping. You felt that you were on a high after James left, you felt like a school girl thirsting after her dream boy, and now that he was here, you couldn’t help but smile all the time when you thought of him.

A honk from outside removed those nice thoughts from your head and you rushed out the door, a light skip to your movements as you went off.


	9. Resist And Release.

When you returned home, you turned your stereo on and giggled a little as Lay It Down by Al Green began to play. You placed the food in its organized places, changed into your pyjamas .

You thought you heard rustling from upstairs, you paused your music and waited for another sound. You began to think you were hearing things, so you turned your music on again. And there it was, hearing the movement of water. You traveled upstairs, you were sure it was Harold coming back to collect a few things. When you reached the top of the stairs, the door was slightly open. “Harold, I still live here, and it would be much appreciated if you closed the do—“ you silenced yourself as you sunk your eyes into a naked Michael Fassbender, sitting lazily in the bath, his head tilted back over the edge, arms grasping the sides and his legs bent as he was much too tall for the small container.

You were lucky enough that his knee covered his crotch from the point you were standing, otherwise you would’ve fainted. You thought he was sleeping as he just sat there, you felt your body go hot as you continued to stare in shock, lacking the comprehension of what was happening. A stale silence was broken when he said in a vacant tone “Like the view?”.

You cracked back to reality, shaking your head and apologizing. You oddly closed your eyes, before exiting the bathroom and leaned against the wall outside. When you opened your eyes, you had the image of his face embedded on your eye lids. You noticed that he looked exhausted, bags hanging under his eyes indicating he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time, and you figured his body was sore and in pain as he just sat in the water.

You heard him move about in the water and he finally called out “It’s alright, you can come in.” Ironic you thought, but did as he said. Your eyes scanned over his toned frontal torso, and journeyed to his lower body, wondering what was behind the towel. You snapped your eyes up as you just realized that he wasn’t just an image you could ogle at, but an actual person in front of you.

A hard, heated blush had surfaced when you witnessed a smug smile cross his face. You could feel a more intense blush rise on your skin as you were well aware that he saw you look him over with such want. “You’d be overwhelmed from the heat my dear.” Tightening the towel at the front and his Irish accent making it even harder to resist him; when you finally took note that it was quite humid in the room, you sighed with a heat wave flash over you.

You felt your blush get worse as you became all flustered as he approached you. You tried to look anywhere but his dominating, cold eyes, you tried to speak as well, but came out in stutters, “Th-There’s going to be a... uh.. A cop at the... uhm... ball. He’s going to be...” He stopped moving, but he was so close, his body heat was outstanding as he shared it with yours. You swallowed hard and had no choice but to look in his yes, you hesitated a breath as they were covered by want, desire, and thoughts pleasuring his mind. You did your best to continue to warn him, not sure if he was actually listening or not. “He’s going to be looking for you at the ball...” you finished.

You saw a grin play at his lips, but it dropped as he uttered the words “Detective McAvoy.” You creased your brow at the familiarity—the boredom in his voice on such a critical matter. At least you though anyway.

He leaned over the sink as he washed his face over, he must have been falling asleep from the heat, the bath and of the many nights he couldn’t. “He’s been tracking me ever since I escaped that Godforsaken place, even before that, from my first...” he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he did not succeed as you clenched your fist tight as well as your jaw.

He looked at you through the mirror, his face like a blank piece of paper, ready to be made into something, to be drawn on. It looked as if he wanted to say something, something that you needed to hear, but instead his eyes dropped, “Cute.” He simply stated before he washed his face over again. You looked to your pyjamas, laughing unsteadily at the wolverine shirt.

After he finished up, he hovered over to you, eyes set on your shirt, then your shorts then to your socks, he gave way a smirk before trailing his eyes back up to yours. “The socks are a nice touch.” He husked, his face coming so near to yours, he sailed over your features with his cold stare “even the shorts...” you couldn’t resist his voice that made you melt, you almost moaned as a heat had formed in your lower body, you slyly clenched your thighs together.

It ached that he was so close, that only a towel had kept him from you, but you knew it wasn’t right to think the way you did of him, he was a rapist after all. You breathed in very unsteadily, your stomach shaking as his body leaned so close, it’s heat radiating from his wet torso. It all seemed like some cheap erotica book, you thought the whole situation ridiculous, but something wanted him to take you here, or in the bath, just anywhere, you wanted him now.

You seized the thoughts, and glanced over to his clothes, seeing that they had smudges of blood on them, you rushed out of his way and pointed to the clothes, “Are you in need of clothes?” when you looked over to him, you felt yourself flush as he was sub-consciously shifting a growing erection under the towel. You met his eyes and knew he wasn’t prepared for you to turn around, but he wasn’t as bashful as you were. Smiling he joked “For tonight I could do without them” and winked.

He was implying a joke, but you didn’t realize until long seconds later, jerking into reaction, an awkward smile at your lips as you picked up his dirty clothing and rushed out of the bathroom. You were suddenly snapped back as his grip found its way on your arm, spinning you against his chest, pressing your body into his, your groin grazing against the stiffness in between his legs. You wanted to whimper but it was muffled from his lips caressing yours passionately, deviously as his tongue had flicked inside your mouth. Oh the things he could do with that tongue, playing with you, pleasuring you.

He nipped at your lips a bit and you sucked his lips and tongue in one, causing him to slightly rock into your hips. You knew he wanted you as badly as you wanted him, but something was stopping the both of you. For him it was fear at what he’d do to you, would he terminate you like the rest, but what was stopping you?

Your hands traveled over his skin, pressing his chest until pulling his neck, deepening the kiss as his mouth moved over yours savagely. He began to walk you back towards the wall, finally reaching it, almost you slamming into it, he grunted lustfully, you in response whimpered at his touch, his hands pulling your hips roughly into his, forcing you to press against his hard flesh that seemed to tease you.

You tugged at his towel, still unsure if you wanted it off yet or not, but sighed as he stopped kissing your lips and moved along your jaw line, then to your neck, biting and sucking a sensitive area you were unaware you had. “Oh god... Michael...” you sighed his name and he moaned, nipping your collarbone and swayed his hips more cruelly against yours.

You were growing hotter between your legs, something of the atmosphere had made it so much more exhilarating, you listened to the music playing, and your heart rushed hearing the erotic tunes of Ooh La La by Goldfrapp play. The humidity left by the hot water made you sweat slightly, as well as his body heat so firmly pressed against your chest.

He took in consideration that you were suffering from this, the restrictions of fabric, even he wanted to continue so diligently, but he knew for a fact it could only end badly. He removed himself from the crook of your neck as you couldn’t find the strength to look him in the eye, you felt a shame hover in your mind, but you also had an impending desire to allow this man to take you.

“Don’t you look so lovely like this...” His voice husky, his Irish accent melting the shame from your thoughts, and you begged with your whimpers. He hoisted you over his hips, feeling the bulge under the towel more prominently, and he slammed you against the wall again. Michael snatched your wrists from his body and gripped them in his hands like vices over your head, making you vulnerable and helpless, allowing him to do anything he wanted. He creased his eyebrow and had a desperate look, “Do you trust me?” You peered into those dark, damaged eyes—into the eyes of a killer and said “yes” you didn’t hesitate for one moment.

He let his lips connect with yours again, swirling his tongue eloquently, you wrapped your hungry lips around his tongue and he smiled as he let it stay there as you bit at it a little. “Starving aren’t you.” His raspy voice as he slipped his tongue away. You smirked deviously.

What on Earth had come over you? you could hear a small little voice yell, your common sense, but you ignored it as his mouth again, poisoned all proper thoughts and filled your body with desire and awaiting pleasure.

He moved his hand over your abdomen, moving underneath the elastic of your shorts and slipping under the lace of your underwear. You moaned at his touch, his hands were slightly cold, but it was only because they weren’t as heated as the area between your legs.

He moved his fingers with steadiness between your folds and you moaned. He rolled his eyes in enjoyment under his eyes lids, still embracing his lips against yours. He squeezed and pull back up, making you quiver under his touch. He slid his fingers again, the heat rising from where he stroked to your abdomen, and finally flushing your chest and face.

You moaned under his kisses as he stroked even, hard and without mercy. Once he hit the buzz, that button, it sent an electric shock through your system, making you jerk your hips and arch your back. Michael chuckled as you grasped for his shoulders, burrowing your face and teeth in his neck as he carried you over to the counter, stroking on your wet flesh the whole way.

He sat you down and smiled as you bit your bottom lip. You wanted to contain yourself, you didn’t want to scream his name as you came, but he wasn’t allowing you to cum, not just yet. He knew what kind of power he had, and he watched you in amusement as you tightened your squeezing on his biceps. This gave him a rush, well aware of the blood welling up in his lower parts, but he didn’t want to pleasure himself, he wanted to pleasure you, and watch as he did.

He pressed his lips together as he entered one finger into you, you gasped at the sensation. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time, and this sensation was definitely over due. He traced his finger in and out and you tightened around his finger, then he abruptly re-entered with a second finger. He leaned closer and you pressed yourself against his chest, securing your legs around his lower torso. Oh he wanted you so bad, he wanted to slip his ready cock into you and fuck you ‘til kingdom comes, but he resisted, it ached at him to release, but yet, he resisted.

He pumped his fingers into you vigorously, but you enjoyed it, you enjoyed his rough hands being engulfed by your wet, velvet flesh. And just when you thought Michael couldn’t go any further, he curled his fingers inside you, feeling the G-spot and you moaned his name “...Ah! Michael...” he grunted as he did it again, and again, and again. You threw your head back and struggled for air, he kissed your exposed neck and bit at your thyroid cartilage. It sent chills along your spine, goosebumps rising as he did so. Again he scooped inside you and you bucked your hips.

You felt his hard erection against you, and you wanted him to be pleasured as well. You wanted to remove the towel but you were so weak from the ecstasy you were undergoing now, you could barely hold on any longer. Until, he pumped a few more times, hard, fast, and when he receded his fingers outwards, he curled his fingers again. Finally the heat building in your lower abdomen had burst and your arched you back. “Ah! Michael! Oh God YES!”

You felt the smile churn his lips as he kissed you gently on the neck, pulling his fingers out with a trail of your juices following. He moaned as he journeyed his lips over the side of your neck, as you sat breathless, weak and shivering from the adrenaline.

\---

After you calmed yourselves from both your highs, you leaned against his chest and breathed heavy, he held your head gently as you listened to his quickened heart. He seemed so... Gentle, so patient, it could never had occurred to you that he was a psychotic murderer.

He kissed your forehead and removed you from the counter, carrying you over his waist to Harold’s room, setting you down as you spread over the bed, exhausted. You struggled to keep your eyes open as he picked out the clothes that would closely fit Michael. He was slightly larger than Harold, and you smirked as he smiled at you, questioning for approval. It was just a plain zip up sweat shirt; with a loose pair of jeans you bought Harold a few Christmas’ ago.

You rolled over so he could change in privacy, but as you did, your eye lids grew heavy and you drifted off to sleep, content flooding your thoughts as well as a slight smile that matched, receding from your lips as you fell asleep.

\---

After he zipped the jumper, he looked over to Fae. She lay silently on her side, off into another plane, he imagined. He leaned on the bed and spent a kiss on the side of her neck before he left.

He made his way down stairs and turned the stereo off, before smiling to himself at the choice of songs she had on her playlist, Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye. He then exit into the freezing night air.

When he finally arrived in town from the long walk, he was well aware of the tightness of the pants around his crotch. Michael knew he had to do something about it, but everything was near empty as it was nearing the early hours of the morning. But luck was on his side as a girl stood at the edge of street, hands in pockets, her breath disappearing as fog into the cold atmosphere.

She looked toward him and smiled sweetly. Good, she didn’t know who he was...yet anyway Michael thought, but also another thought ventured into his head, the wheels of his chaotic mind had started turning. “I’m Miranda” she said without warning, hovering her hand so he could shake it.

Michael smiled, grabbing it and kissed her knuckles, “Michael Fassbender” he said with a honey voice. She still wasn’t aware, but Miranda was never one to watch the news or read articles. “So what are you up to?” she asked an apparent flirt as she shifted her footing. He presented an evil smile, his head hammered with desire, and the stiff flesh had throbbed, he needed to get rid of this package as soon as he could, he missed his chance with Fae, so he thought this surrogate would do.

He approached her, and her smile became more lustful, but he had noticed streams of mascara painted around her eyes. She had been crying, but he didn’t care why, she must have been doing this whole mischievous talk so she could get at somebody. She pounced on him, moving her lips over his.

He wasn’t prepared for this, but neither was she for the switchblade making its way, very slowly into her side. She tried to scream, but it was caught by another jab at her gut. Michael dragged her to a near alley and pressed her against a wall.

He waved the knife in her face, this side of him he had mixed emotions of. He enjoyed the fact he could anything to these girls, anything he damn well pleased, but he felt an immense dread doubt his mind as the images of Fae had presented themselves in the new victims eyes upon meeting her. Why hadn’t he just killed her?

Michael knew why, she had helped him without question as to why he was so damaged; she had spoke to him like a person, not just as a patient. She didn’t analyze him, even though that was her job, she just wanted to know about him, and she wanted to empathize with him.

However, he still had the ache of a release that still wasn’t made so, and he pushed those feelings of Fae aside as he leveled his eyes with the women crying sitting against the wall. “You’ll do exactly as I say, or this will find its way in a less pleasant area.” Waving the knife again. She nodded with frantic understanding.

He stood and unzipped his jeans, his devil didn’t have time to deal with her whole body, instead the chaotic Michael only wanted to let what was being held inside go. She obliged to his obvious demand and took him into her mouth with trembling lips.

\---

“Ah, Fuck!” he screamed in the night air, feeling the bliss of lust excite him, Michael clutched the knife tight in his hand and shoved it forward, straight into this Miranda’s eye socket before pulling himself free from her mouth, letting his seed spill over the front of her as she clenched her teeth, a natural response of the brain when it is under threat or dead.

He cleaned his knife and wiped himself clean. Leaving the corpse so indiscriminately as he made his way through the town to move to his next crucial destination for an upcoming event, Newcastle.


	10. So Close To Home.

The next morning, Detective McAvoy was called to another scene early once again. When he heard the town name, he felt an immense panic corrupt his mind. It was in Haverhill this time, so close to Fae. He dressed as quickly as he could and left.

When he arrived at the scene, he winced at what he saw. He crouched in front of her and draped the white cloth over her face “poor girl...” He couldn’t help but feel genuinely sorry for this one, Michael hadn’t even bothered with the rest of her, he just...

“We found traces of Fassbender’s DNA as well as someone else’s.” Millers had informed, James gave him a questioned look. “Have you run it through the scanners yet?” Millers shrugged at his question. It became very suspicious, did Michael have an accomplice? Impossible, he was a one man show. Perhaps he had mugged someone.

Just then, a forensic scientist had approached them, holding an iPad with a young man’s identity in one hand, and the other holding a piece of blonde hair in a small tube. “Aldemo Harold arrested for drunk driving on one occasion in Newcastle. Has a clean record besides for that mishap.” James nodded to the scientist, and they went on with a blank expression, “You’re lucky too on this one, says he’s rented a house just outside of town.” James pricked his attention to where the small man in one pointed. His features dropped when he took in that it was the direction of Fae’s home.

“Withersfield Road.” The man finished. James looked to Millers and assured him he’d be back, and if he hadn’t called, then send some people over to investigate.

He drove in a haste to get to her house, he had a strong feeling she wasn’t fine, or worse she was dead. There was no other explanation, he thought, no other ideas came to mind, he must have robbed her and changed from his bloodied clothes to clean ones, all the while raping her, brutally mangling her, killing her.

He ran up the steps, his heart pounding in his chest, blood pulsing in his ears. No answer within the first eight seconds that felt like minutes, again he knocked, hammering his fist on the mahogany door.

He was ready to break down the door when she swung it open muttering to herself “What in the Devil—“ she only had a glance of who it was before James had lunged at her, wrapping his arms around her frame, pulling her tight to himself and entwined his lips with hers. She was taken by complete shock and confusion.

She hesitated her arms on his shoulders, pulling himself away, James searched her eyes, not knowing what to find, he shook his before pulling her into a tight helpless hug. She tried to imagine what was going through his head, but insisted she should just ask “Wha—What’s the matter?”you asked, but he breathed in deep, with a shaky response “I thought...” he couldn’t finish, and you guessed what he was thinking.

You both stood there for a long time, burrowing into the crook of his arms, holding him reassuringly as he had his face in the crook of your neck, trying to steady his breathing.

After a long minute, he pulled away. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so clingy.” He laughed, sniffing a sob away. You smiled and lightly touched his face “It’s okay...”You spun around and said you’d get changed, you paused just outside your door and faced him, “You want to get a drink?” you had concern sketched over your face, you knew he really needed one, and he knew it too. He wiped his mouth and nodded, a sad smile spreading on his lips. “Yeah, a drink sounds terrific right now.”

\---

You dressed and rushed to his side, linking his arm. You enjoyed he didn’t tower over you like Michael did, it had an ease to being close with James.

You lead him outside, and was ready to move one, but he gave you a look, insisting that you lock the door. You did so and started toward his car. He sighed before he entered, he still felt uneasy, mostly because you lived so far away from everyone else, but also because he dreaded at the new incident that occurred.

\---

You arrived at the same pub you had your first drinks together, Bull Hotel. Oddly enough it was the same bartender that was working, he greeted you with a friendly wave and smile, you both waved back with happy smiles.

“What can I get you two love birds?” he looked to you both, a heavy cogni accent, it sounded funny as the ones you heard were always slurring profanities, but his was much friendlier. You looked to James and he to you, and giggled “Oh we’re not...” James pointed at the both of you and you finished “We’re not together.” The Bartender just gave you a knowing look as if saying aloud yeah sure you aren’t. You laughed again, you could feel a fluster of thoughts as your face grew hot.

Again you felt guilty, guilty at what happened last night with Michael, how he—but you were now here with James, acting as if nothing happened. You also wondered how he left without notice. You felt a small sadness seep into your mind, but returned to James, who always made you feel light, easy and just... happy.

He gave you a raised eyebrow, holding a bottle of Toohey’s in one hand, you hadn’t noticed that the bartender placed the drinks in front of you when you were in a small trance. “You okay?” he asked, his strong Scottish accent bringing a smile to your lips. You nodded with a sincere smile, grabbing the beer and taking a small sip.

“Uhm... The reason why I was so afraid... Why I had rushed to your house was because—“ he had hesitated to speak, you could see how frightened he was when you opened the door. Something had definitely happen, but so close to home? Were you that close to danger?

“Michael had found a new victim.” He finished. Your mind went numb by the words, your mouth gaped in shock, and your brow twitched. You felt a wave of panic flush your mind. Had he done it before or after you saw him? Your breathing became very constricted, your head felt light and your vision had narrowed. James touched the back of your shoulder. “Are you alright?” he insured, you nodded but he knew you weren’t.

He left his seat to put an arm around you and led you outside. Once in the open air, you felt it easier to breath; you placed your hands on your knees and tried to calm yourself. In fact, you were so close to danger, last night he could have... do you trust me? you could hear his voice echo, so clear as if he whispered into your ear just then. Why in the hell had you said yes? Yes, you were giving him consent to do anything.

James rubbed your back as he bent to meet you eye level. “Are you sure you’re alright?” you nodded more steadily this time and stood back up. He placed an arm at the top of your back so you could lean into whenever you needed. You tried to focus on something to keep you calm, you could feel James’ hot gaze on you, focusing intently on you.

You breathed in deep and nodded. “There’s something else I need to tell you too...” his voice was unsure as he hardened his eyes and features. You looked at him, curious as to what made him look like he was dreading the words. “His latest victim was named...” he coughed to remove the lump in the throat that had built from the anticipation of your emotions that would come “ her name was Miranda.”

Your stomach dropped six feet, your heart hammered in your ears and chest, you felt woozy as you swayed in the cold air like a feather dropping so lightly to the ground. “oh god..” you barely made through your lips. The blood rushed to your head as your knees buckled, as if you were undergoing shell-shock, and from what you learned, it was pretty close. The world seemed distant, even James who had become so close.

You hadn’t noticed but you were leaning into his arms, an arm hung around his neck, you guessed he had put it there, noticing you were ready to fall over. You hung for dear life as your mind came back to present from wherever the hell it went. You heard James’ Scottish accent but no words, until finally you looked at him with fear filled eyes. He was muttering your name, a look of fright in his own face. He was afraid with you, for you, but he had given you some form of courage, and you felt strength return to you slowly.

You raised a hand, “I’m ok. I just kind of—wow”. His eyes scanned over you, making sure you were really ok. “I take it you knew her?” he guessed, you nodded slowly, hiding your eyes behind your hands as you felt your eyes go hot, the tears welling up at the corners. You were angry, sorrowful, your mind had sunk into a darkness you never thought you felt.

You gritted your teeth and looked up, out into the greying sky, the clouds growing heavy, just like the clump of hatred in your chest. This time you thought Michael had gone too far. I know what he was doing was wrong, and I never should have....

You straightened yourself and looked to James pleadingly, “I need to see her.” He doubted your decision with a look and tried “I don’t think that would be the best—" "please, detective McAvoy.” You pleaded sternly. You were sure this was what you needed to do. He understood and supported you to his car.

\---

You arrived at your desolate destination. You breathed in as you looked at the body leaning against the alley wall. It’s too early for this shit. you thought resentfully. You exit the car and only approached the scene when James made by your side. As you neared the familiar corpse, James’ accomplice met you by the body. “Ah, Mrs. Psychologist.” He smiled, you tried to smile back but it was feeble. In turn, he puckered his lips and addressed James, “We got Mr. Aldemo in for questioning—“You snapped your head to the other detective “Harold?” you interjected. The two detectives looked at you, suspicious of your curiosity.

“That’s why I came over to your house, I thought that maybe you were in trouble, or Harold was part of this somehow.” James briefed. You nodded, and your eye was caught by Alex on the second floor of your psychology building. His eyes were stuck on you, you could tell he had been crying as his eyes were puffy. You touched James’ arm and informed you had to go see someone quickly, he nodded you off and returned to converse with his fellow detective.

\---

You knocked softly on the door and proceeded. Alex sat in his mahogany leather arm chair, a glass of scotch and ice in one hand and an almost empty bottle in the other. “Alex?” you called as softly as you knocked. He didn’t look at you, just sat and stared out the window, “I ended it between us last night... Just after we...” he couldn’t finish because of a choked sob that had stopped him.

You carefully made your way into the couch opposite of him. You looked at him, desperation raising your eyebrows, he looked so broken, and you couldn’t help but feel infected by it as well. He shook his head defiantly. “I should have waited— I should—“You touched his knee and comforted “You didn’t know.” Oh but you did, you knew Michael was in town, you could even had stopped him.

His bottom lip pulled out into a pout and he couldn’t muster the words to show how he felt, instead he dropped his head in his hands, the glass spilling over a bit. You sat there in silence before hugging him, rubbing his back for comfort like a mother would.

\---

When you returned to James, he looked to you modestly, “Will he be alright?” you shrugged you shoulders. You really didn’t know, he already had a wife and kid, how could he express the sorrow to them? You kept those thoughts to yourself.

Your face almost lit up as you saw Harold exit a police car, in cuffed wrists. “Fae?” he exclaimed, he ran to you, the police tried to stop him, but James raised a hand to let him come. He was lucky as they arrested him from the front, but the hug was still awkward, nonetheless, you embraced him, thanking he was alright. “I thought it was you!” he tried to hold back an impending sob.

When you pulled away, a relieved smile had chinked his deep brown eyes and you smiled with happiness, at least some of the sorrow was lifted, but some still dug at your chest. James appeared from behind him, holding a small note pad, you almost forgotten that Harold was still a suspect, but you could even see in James’ face that he doubt he was guilty, despite his narrowed eyes and pressed lips. “Harold could you tell me what you were doing last night, at approximately 2:30 A.M.?” Harold tried to think really hard but replied simply that he was sleeping at a mates house, due to his feeling of lack of safety of a psychotic killer on the loose.

Harold gave you a side glance before quickly returning it to the detective.

James wrote a small, messy sentence down and hardened his bright blue eyes on Harold again, of course you couldn’t expect much, it was his duty. While he questioned Harold, you dared to approach the body. You didn’t want to look at what Michael had done, but you were forced when a forensic removed the white sheet to examine more of her decomposed flesh. You pulled a face at what lay ahead of you. You covered your mouth in horror, the hole in her eye socket that had seeped liquids from the eye and blood. You trailed your eyes downward to her chest, but looked away as soon as you say the trail of...

You didn’t want to think of it. It was much too vulgar, and your stomach ached with fury. You didn’t expect James’ to be by your side so quickly, but there he was. He ushered you away so you wouldn’t have to be so close to a dead colleague, or friend at that matter.

He sat you on the curb after he returned with a blue berry muffin for you and a coffee for the both of you. “Well... So far we know, Harold is legibly innocent, however, there are thoughts that you have been robbed.” You raised your eyebrows in acknowledgement, it wasn’t a bad lie you could tell, being a Canadian, you never really did lock your door.

You looked at him to go on, he smiled sweetly, and shyly looked away at what he was going to ask you next, “I hope you don’t mind.” He pulled the same note pad from his pockets. You laughed a little and turned to face him more promptly. “By all means” you wanted to help, but still you felt responsible for what happened to Miranda, not only that, you were hospitalizing a criminal, an insane criminal at that.

“Where were you last night at 2:30 A.M.” he smiled, an eyebrow raised in question. You smiled, kissing your lips, when you remembered what Michael and you had done in the small hours of the morning; you couldn’t look James in the eye. “Evidently, I was asleep.” Which you were sure wasn’t a complete lie; you can’t remember anything up to the point where you rolled on your side, giving Michael privacy. He sketched your words in, “And to your knowledge, did you end up locking your door before sleeping?” his face straight, but you could tell he was trying his best to hide a smile. He now knew you weren’t in the habit of doing what he said.

You bit your bottom lip and shrugged. “No?” you hesitated; James had returned the smile you had sheepishly placed over your lips. You had a feeling he was trying his best not to kiss you right then and there.

He kissed his teeth, trying to suppress the urge of placing one of your lips. “Ok. Seems like we’re done.” He put his notepad away, and sat in silence, looking over the scene of the stone street, buildings old and on the verge of corners crumbling.

You sighed the cold morning air; it was nice to take in the view with someone like this for once. After a long while, you hadn’t noticed the freezing air when all thoughts had cleared from your head. You shuddered as the atmosphere traveled up your bare legs. He looked to you, removing his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders, as you clutched to your hot coffee and warm muffin for dear life. You looked at him a little surprised “What about you—““Worry about yourself for once. For me.” He smiled, you chuckled and leaned into his chest, not caring what his colleagues would think and neither would he as he wrapped his arms around you, rubbing the outside of your arm.

You could hear the calm of his heart, steady even beats. At that moment, you remembered Michael’s heart beat, fast, exhilarated when he touched you. You clenched your jaw at the thought. All you could feel for him was anger, resentment, just pure hatred, but yet, there was still room for empathy.

Your negative thoughts were disrupted by the vibration in his chest as his Scottish accent spoke out, “Do you have a way of getting to Newcastle?” you looked up to him and he smiled warmly. You pulled a face that expressed don’t really know, which was exactly right, your car was unreliable, even though it was relatively new, but the gas... He chuckled and offered if you wanted a lift from him, you shrugged your shoulders. “Sure, why not ride in the back of a cop car.” You jested; he chuckled again and rocked you. “Then it’s settled, of course I’ll have to cuff you, seeing how you’re a dangerous savage.” You giggled and burrowed your head deeper into his embrace.

“Also, I’ll have to stay at your house for the night’s coming. Too dangerous for you to be home alone, especially when you’ve just been robbed. Victim protection program, you know?” He suggested. You laughed again and nodded without care, though you were a little concerned; you were a little worried if Michael would visit in the night, getting him caught once and for all. Yet, you still had an emotion that wanted him to be safe. At the moment, you just wanted James’ company.

“Will do, Detective McAvoy, will do.” You smiled and sat there for a long while, before finally he escorted you home, along with Harold.


	11. Witness Protection Program.

You had reached your house in a short while, all the while, it was slightly awkward. Harold sitting in the back, his wrists a little marked by the cuffs, staring out the window with a clenching jaw; you in the front seat with James, staring out the front window, but catching him in your peripheral vision every once in a while glancing over to you. You felt a smile play when you gazed out the window again until finally, you arrived.

He asked if you’d be okay, after Harold quickly made his way in the house. You looked at James, a sweet smile appearing, you wanted to give him some form of reassurance, so you leaned in close, feeling the heat on his lips and breath escape, touching your own. Not only could you feel your heart quicken, but you could feel his as well do the same. Just to tease him, you moved slightly to the side, so close to his lips and placed a small peck on his cheek. “I’ll be fine” you said quickly and exit the car.

You felt a spring in your step, every time after seeing James; he truly was someone who could lift your spirits. You waved him goodbye and smiled. When he waved back, he looked almost defeated but he smiled in the end.

When you entered, Harold was waiting, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the island. His face was stern and you were pulled back into the troublesome reality. “What the hell was my DNA doing there?” You felt your stomach drop.

You shrugged and walked by him to get a drink, god knows you needed one at this point. You poured a large glass of wine and looked him over from your glass. You raised an eyebrow, but he still wasn’t convinced that you didn’t know anything.

He pressed his hands on the edges and leaned, with a more hard face on than before. “How. Did. My. DNA get there?” He gritted his teeth and stared at you for a long time. He wasn’t fooled, you figured he suspected that you knew something of Michael, especially that you thought you’d be fine on your own, even after your random paranoia episode.

You sighed, you couldn’t look him in the eye as you said this, but you knew you could trust him. “okay... I—“ you choked on the lump, were you really prepared to say this out loud to anyone? You could feel Harold’s eyes burn on your head as he watched you confess. “I gave one of your sweat shirts to Michael—To the killer.”

He didn’t move, his face remained stern. When you finally mustered the courage to look at him, he moved his eyes down. He clenched his jaw again and met your eyes, he shook his head and you felt tears well up at the corner of your eyes.

You felt as though you have failed him, you disappointed him and that really tightened on your chest. You had already lost one brother you didn’t want to lose someone as close.

“How long?” he asked genuinely concerned, breaking the long, tense silence. You twiddled with your fingertips, still trying not to make eye contact, “About a month or so.” You replied after a small sob. You could catch him nodding in your peripheral vision. Another long silence hung, when it was cut short by a knock on your door.

You looked to each other and he quickly made his way to the door before you could react. please, don’t be Michael. Please don’t be Michael. you begged to yourself. Harold swung the door open hastily and his edgy composure relaxed, but still traces of anxiety remained. You were ready to launch at him, not sure what you would do next, but felt a burden lift off your chest when it was James who appeared at the door. One hand in his pocket and the other scratching the back of his head, you smiled bashfully as he mirrored it.

“Detective McAvoy, a pleasure.” Harold had greeted, sounding almost sarcastic. “Hi, I uhm... I was just concerned about you and just thought--” He looked to you and to Harold back and forth. He held up pack of beers and a bag of snacks. “Witness protection program?” He said with a smile, you giggled and couldn’t help but invite him in.

You grinned as James passed you, but it dropped when his back was toward you two and you mimed a beg to Harold, but he gritted his teeth under his lips and proceeded after James. You trusted Harold, but you supposed being a prime suspect with a murder might cause him to make rash decisions.

“So what brings you here on this fine evening” again, Harold sounded excruciatingly sarcastic and you tried to calm yourself by closing your eyes for a second, inhaled and exhaled. Calm, keep composed, he still doesn’t suspect anything... you told your self as you approached the island that both men situated themselves at.

James gave Harold a funny look but shrugged it off as he opened three beers for everyone of you. “I figured, because you are a prime suspect, and Fae has been a victim of robbery, that I should stay a couple of nights until things look clear.” He stated followed by a long sip of his beverage, looking at Harold then to you with big blue eyes, almost non-verbally asking for an opinion. Obviously it wasn’t needed as he was already here, and you couldn’t deny him to stay as it would raise more suspicion.

Instead of feeling guilty though, you felt a little lighter, spending some sleepovers with a friend you made by playing a kissing game just a few nights ago. There was always something about James that you could really cling a life to, you could see yourselves in years time, arguing over something ridiculous then making up by a joke of it hours later.

You hadn’t noticed that you spaced off when James handed you the cold beer, you shook your head with a smile that had reflected your thoughts and thanked him. He in turn, smiled the same and gave you a light cheers. Harold only stood back in silence, raising his bottle as James and yours clinked the glass, his eyes never leaving yours as he celebrated “To witness protection program.” You giggled and took a long gulp.

Hours later, the three of you were sprawled across the long blue couch, planted in front of the large flat screen with snacks and bottles littering the coffee table just in front of you. Your legs were stretched over Harold’s lap as his torso laid on top of James back as he laid on yours. You were crushed to say the least, but it was comfortable to be so close to all three without a care in the world.

You tried to reach for another drink, and that’s when you heard Harold and James whispering. You didn’t really care until James had pricked your sides and you squirmed, then Harold clutched your legs and tickled the bottoms of your feet. You kicked and squealed, but they were much too heavy with the both of them on top.

By the end of the torment, your upper body was laying on the floor with your legs struggling from underneath both men as they continued their torturous touch. Then a sudden burst of music had ruptured the air, the beat of The End by Macklemore had played and you all jumped.

You captured a quick glance of their terrified faces before they relaxed as Harold pulled a remote from under his knee. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or that the blood was rushing to your head because of your position, but the image had made you in an unstoppable cycle of laughter.

You felt a warm presence hover over you as those tickling hands had pricked your sides again. James had climbed over top of you and laughed through gritted teeth “What you laughing at huh?” When you met his eyes, it was as if time had stopped, as cliché as it sounded, but the world was so far gone. His bright blue eyes had stared into yours and never left as he leaned closer, and closer, and so ever closer until the imminent moment was interrupted by Harold’s booming cough.

James had rolled off you and laid, or rather carpeted himself across the hardwood flood and chuckled to himself as you lay beside him laughing all the same. “Should I leave you two alone then?” You raised you hand with just your middle finger up to him, never looking at him. You heard him leave with a satisfied laughter.

When he was gone, you felt James head loll over to look at you, his crystal eyes scanning over your features until finally; you looked over to him as well and smiled. He kept his face in a gentle expression, a smile almost at his lips before he rolled his body to fully face you, raising a hand to your face and cupped it as gently as his smile.

You felt a flurry of emotions, thoughts and butterflies storm in your head, but when he pushed in close, meeting his lips so softly against yours, so delicately as if you were made of such a breakable substance, all of those things had vanished. There was only this feeling James gave you, such utter peace, such sincerity to his touch.

When he pulled away slowly, he hadn’t opened his eyes until he was well done with the intimate moment, he immediately apologised bashfully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav—“you silenced him by pulling him back to your lips. You could feel he was surprised as he was a bit hesitant at first when he returned the favor, but he did all the same.

He pulled you close by wrapping an arm around your neck and did the same with your waist, pulling and turning you over so you were well on top. You tried to hide a smile back but failed as a small chuckled had escaped. You felt his smile under you caress and ran your fingers up his sides then through his hair.

“Oh you just love breaking the rules eh? Kissing patients now...” he moaned through kisses. You laughed heartedly, “ha, you’re the one who came here for witness protection program” you mocked. In response he pulled you tight and kissed you passionately again, rolling you over so you were now resting on your opposite side. You looked into one another’s eyes until they grew tired and finally, shut, letting you fall into a dream within each others arms.

Over the next few days it was the same, you would watch a movie, often get drunk and eat a tremendous amount of snacks, half of which you would have baked with Harold feeling like a third wheel before finally going off to bed. He knew that you two were getting close, if you knew it, there wasn’t much to say about anything, you kind of jsut let it happen.

However, there was a sadness Harold had burdened in his eyes and it would itch at your own mind. You knew he was thinking about Michael, the fact you were keeping secrets from James, but you didn’t want to hurt him, and thought that playing along was the best option for now.


	12. The Welcome Party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry it took forever, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

James upon his stay had nagged if he could see your dress or even just your mask but you refused to show him and keep it a surprise. You still had that impending hole in your chest, the loss of Miranda, the fear the Michael had festered in your mind, you didn’t feel it burrowing deep until the most recent incident. You were with James now, and you felt safer, although he may not prove enough protection against the Killer when the time comes, but he made you happy and right now, that’s all you needed.

It was going to be a long drive to Newcastle and so you made you would both have enough pass time and gas on the way there. Packing the car, Harold pulled you to the side when James was loading your suitcase in.

“You have to tell him.” He had hissed, desperation creasing his brows. You felt terrible for keeping it a secret; all he ever does for you is good, but there was still that feeling that you wanted to protect Michael. He had no one else, no one to stay with, talk to... to be loved by. You closed you eyes slowly to think, pressed your lips together and nodded. “I will... Just give me time and I’ll figure something out.” You met his eyes again, they softened, but traces of helplessness were still there.

After that response, he let you go and you rushed to the car, closing the boot as James hopped in the driver’s side. You looked back to him, your surrogate brother and knew you couldn’t let him down.

And you were right. It was a long drive, roughly, at most five hour drive, it was well past dark and quite cold when you reached the hotel, well, technically speaking, it wasn’t exactly a hotel. It was an adorable yet dignified “hall”. James drove the car around the fountain and you were greeted with two chauffers, one opening your doors and the other that grabbed your bags from the car.

You looked to James surprised and he had a gleeful smirk on his rosy lips. “I thought you’d like this.” He smiled brighter, grabbing your hand and leading you up the steps into the lobby as one man carried your bags and the other drove James’ car off. You felt a little bad that the man had to carry both bags and winced when you glanced back to him climbing the steps, but he winked at you to reassure you, this was your night, this was your time to enjoy yourself . You smiled gratefully and returned your attention to the large crowd huddled in the reception desk room.

They were all talking about something, with drinks in their hands, looking sophisticated and important in their courtly clothing. You didn’t stand out too much, until you looked over to James and laughed a little at his scruffy look. He raised an eyebrow and fixed his collar comically.

By the time you checked in, you were completely exhausted, you explained you wanted a separate room from him so the dress and mask would still be a surprise, he complained at first but gave in at the end. Unfortunately, it was on the other side of the estate, which was in fact going to be a hassle getting to.

Once in your room, you dropped your bag and further dropped yourself onto the soft bed. You almost sunk through it but didn’t mind as you felt your eye lids grow heavy into a deep, solid slumber.

Hours later, you guessed, hoped actually since you needed it, you stirred awake. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light of the lamp still lit on the night stand, you checked the watch you were wearing, not even caring you were still in the clothes you arrived in. You peered at the small device for a long moment before it actually processed what the time was, 2:36 (A.M. you figured), and sighed, burrowing your face in the fluffy pillow.

After as minute more, you were sure to return to sleep soon enough and thought you might as well sleep comfortably, so you removed your shirt, and wriggled out of your pants, unlatched your watch and got rid of the rest of the paraphernalia. Annoyance had irritated your mind as you struggled with the small hooks and clips until a low chuckle had emerged from the corner of the room behind opposite of you.

You whipped your head around to barely make out the silhouette of a form sitting in the chair placed in the corner. When your eyes adjustment fluxed from light to dark, a damp blanket of panic swept your mind, and trying not to act so, you called his name out calmly. “Michael... I thought...” really you weren’t sure what to think, you had given him a warning that the police would be looking for him here, but you weren’t sure if you made it clear enough to him not to come. And yet here he was.

He removed himself from the chair, wobbly making his way to the bed with an object in his hand. Your heart raced as you thought it to be a murder weapon to finally end your life, that you guessed he wanted to do for so long, but it had receded its pace as he placed the object on a drawer on the way to you.

“I need you to...” his voice soothing your mind, despite what the manner your body had reacted. He finally sat down at the edge, he knew he couldn’t conjure the words of what you were to him, it was indeed a strange feeling you had aroused in his mind, so he tried with much simpler words. “I need you...” At first you weren’t sure if he had finished his sentence but you suggest anyway, hoping to lift off an awkward weight, “...To check your wounds?” sitting slightly more to attention, but yet trying to cover your almost completely naked body.

You watched him intently as his head had turned almost too quickly to agree with what you suggested. At this point you knew he had finished his sentence, that he really did need you. However you thought it simpler if you suggested something much safer.

After the slightly movement of his head, he nodded once, agreeing with what you hadn’t said but implied in your unsure words. Removing his shirt, you watched his back muscles moved under his skin, like a body, or maybe even two moving under the bed sheets. At that moment, your body had reacted first before your mind could, it had dropped its alerted demeanor and hungered for the touch of this man, the taboo of loving the beast.

Your eyes were lifter when he looked at you just enough to show he had sincerity in his own, the look of an impending apology, his deep blue eyes flat with the death of his pride. This had shattered your heart, you really could not stay angry with him, he was hurt, he had fallen. A large part of your mind had bitter spite for him, He deserves to feel that way. He doesn’t deserve you Fae. He’s a Monster. He’s a Lost Cause.

Just because someone stumbles and loses their way, it doesn’t mean they are lost forever

Suddenly his eyes had lit up a bit, a smile had almost emerged on his solemn face. You didn’t realise until you pieced that you had said it out loud and you had smiled due to the small glimmer of his.

You couldn’t help but to help, even if that meant for him, and you really wanted to help this poor, poor man. So you tried your best to keep the covers on as you approached him and assessed his scars in the dim light, but it was enough to see that they were nearly healed. You pressed on the with your thumb, sliding it across to ensure there was no pain, he had shook his head to respond.

When you had finished, you instinctively had hooked your hands from the crook of his neck and used your thumbs to massage the knotted flesh underneath. You had given your late ex boyfriend many back massages over the years and these had often led to much hotter touches but the habit had remained on the most part. In reaction, Michael had tensed to the feeling but you could hear a sigh of pleasure, faintly leaning his head back to indulge in the feel.

“Sorry!” you had said quickly “Old habit...” He craned his neck to catch a shy smile flush your face. He reached for your face, cupping it gently and craned his neck forward to gently capture that smile with his lips. Moving his lips over yours, opening his mouth as your breath had quickened from the sensation, swallowing your essence whole. You face had flushed again, aware that you beginning to heat up as he climb on the bed, over top of you, his chest feeling as though the sun was nearing your own chest, laying you back down on the bed.

You didn’t object this, despite all the thoughts going through your head, but you paid no attention, you wanted him and it felt like right now that’s all you knew. Once he had finally trapped you underneath him, he moved his tongue into your mouth; you had welcomed it gleefully, feeling that you were missing this sensation for a long time. It had wrestled with your own, pinning it, stroking it, inviting it in his own mouth.

It had all become a lot, feeling it bunch up, crash in your own mind but you didn’t care, you needed this, and sometimes, what you need is stronger than what you want.

He parted momentarily and opened his eyes as you did the same, both of you had that hunger imprinted in them, but you both had strength enough to fight it as you waited for him. “May I ask what other old habits you got locked away in here.” His voice raspy and accent strong as he tapped on your chest, feeling the thud of his finger softly making contact with the top of your chest, you fluttered your eye lashes at him and smiled. “Maybe...” He moved his head away to look at you more full on. He had presented you with a suspicious look. “Depends.” You had answered his question. He cringed but a smile had lightened it “On what?” You bit your lip and attempted to make your answer sound as less innuendo as possible. “If you’ll let me be on top?”

He chuckled and snapped himself back over top of you, lips crashing into your own, swivelling his tongue on yours. And what felt like no more than a second of this into it, he rolled you both over and you had ended up snuggling on top of him, hands gently clutching on his sides, his own hand wrapped around you, holding you tight, and yet your lips still entwined into each other’s.

He let your lips go enough for you to breath and he smiled, “There you have what you need.” Removing his arms from you and resting them behind his head. You sat up, and you automatically thought, can this get anymore profane? You laughed and shook your head, your hands just on the flesh in front of his hips, “I need you face down.” He raised his eyebrows to you and you giggled at his response, it was ridiculous when you replayed what you had said and how absurd it was in this context.

He had played an American accent and a lisp in his voice as he had jested “Baby, I ain’t no piece of meat that you can eat and throw away the bones. I deserve to be respected and—“ he had ceased as you had began to laugh uncontrollably “What?” he had rhetorically demanded. “Well I can’t do what I have to this way!” you had managed in between hysteric cackles. He shrugged his shoulders and pouted a lip, “Why not? Just try it. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it all the same.” His smile had faded and a dark look had descended in his face.

It wasn’t scary at all, but it intimidated you and you could feel yourself yearn for him. Your laughing had gradually ceased and a heated awakening had come to the sins of the flesh. You bit your lip and slid your hands from his hips, over on his abdomen, over his ribs and finally over his chest; rubbing intensively on his muscles on his upper pectorals, pressing the bottom of your palms to really unloosen the knots that had bunched over the years of his grim business, then using your thumbs to smooth over the rigidness of his flesh underneath.

All the while, you tried not to look him in the eye, but you could hear the breaths of pleasure being released, out of the edge of your vision you could see his mouth split open, you could sense its wants and needs and meaning. Before you leaned yourself to close to his body, although your legs were almost wrapped around him, you leaned back to press your palms onto his abdomen, tracing of his v line with your thumbs, this had caused him to stir a little and you didn’t notice until now that he had removed his hands from behind his head and they had reached for your hips.

You flinched at the sudden touch but continued on to smooth over his skin, moving lower on his stomach glancing at the faint trail of hair heading downward. Luckily you sat on the space just between, you didn’t want to do anything too hasty. However, the soft, velvet flesh underneath the lace had throbbed for him, for his touch, for his intrusion. All the while, you had slid your touch lower and lower, nearing where the v line had almost conjoined but your thighs had obstructed the path.

You stopped, thinking that all of this was getting too much for the both of you, but before you could inform him of anything that was going on in your head, he gently squeezed your hips and pushed you downward. Even now, you dared not to meet his icy gaze but you obliged to his demand.

Your flesh had felt constricted in the lace underwear; it was hot and throbbed as fast as your heart had as it hammered on the walls of your chest like a sledgehammer. You could feel with your sensitive region the stiff mass underneath you, the only thing separating you was the thin line of fabric.

You bit your bottom lip and you had mustered the courage to look in his eyes, but before you could do that, he snap up, once reconnecting his lips with yours, hungry for your touch again. He wrapped an arm around the small of your back and you did the same with your own arms around his neck, pulling his kiss deeper into yours, arching your back into him, grazing his inferno skin against yours. His other hand had slithered between you two, feeling for the buckle of his belt and playing with the button of his jeans.

You sighed against his kiss as you felt his hand move over your mound. He took the hint and stopped immediately what he was planning and purposely pressed his hand and removed it from the area, You whimpered at the shudder it gave you and buried your face in his neck, feeling the prick of his stubble pushing through again. You could feel the sinful smile he had placard on his face as he voice it, “Oh I bet you liked that...” his voice was wicked all the same as his smile was and it sent another shudder across your body.

He moved his rough hand over you again, but this time with more intention on getting a moan out of you, slipping his two dominant fingers against you again, still kept away as the fabric played as a barrier. In response, you twitched, arching your back more promptly against him, his arm tightening around your back and trapping you, holding you in this embrace for what seemed eternal.

After for what he seemed long enough, for the both of you, he had paused his teasing gesture to begin it again, only inside the fabric of your garments. You hissed in some air as he smoothed over you, playing with the small nub comfortably placed now stimulated with his rough touch. You moaned and whimpered as he fastened his pace, as you rocked sub-consciously over him. Again you could feel that wicked smile as he whispered with vile intentions into your ear, “how about I give you all of it tonight?” This had opened a new door in your conscious. It had moved you in unpleasant ways but you enjoyed it and so you moaned in response.

Almost immediately to your yearning, he forced you back on the bed, from holding you on his lap, he held you tightly against himself as your legs had constricted around his hips. You knew he wanted to be gentle, but gentle was not in his nature and neither was mercy. He had removed his hand the small of your back and snatched your wrists, slamming them above your head as he harshly moved your underwear down with the other hand.

You felt helpless to stop him now, and a small portion of your pleasure had turned to fear as he continued on, but nonetheless it was enough to know that you wanted him to stop. “Michael...” you tried but was muffled as he burrowed his face in the crook of your neck this time. He wasn’t just hungry for this, he was starving, and animals become more fierce when you prove as an obstacle to their needs. But you tried again anyhow, “Michael please...” trying to push him off, or at least enough so he could hear you, but despite your effort, he did not stop, you could hear him fiddle the confines of his belt again as the metals clinked.

“Michael!” you shouted once more, and luckily, he stopped. His body shook with sobs and he removed himself from over top of you, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and hunching over, face in hand, hiding it in shame. However, you couldn’t feel sorry for him anymore, It’s not that bad until it’s happened to you huh? that spiteful part of your mind trying to say I told you so. You wanted to shut it up, but you knew it was all too true.

You hurried and gathered yourself, hiding under the covers again  
as he sniffled and shook with unheard cries. You tried to keep your view off him but it kept returning to him. But alas, your eyes snapped on him as he spoke with a deep croak in his voice “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... I just...” You heard the sobs had removed for the most part, but you still had no sympathy, but regret that you didn’t listen to that voice in your head.

“I think—“ you spoke finally, with a shaky voice abut tried again “I think you should go.” Your tone was flat, but he could feel a cutting hate that sliced through like a katana and butter. Without another word, he collected his things and left. You didn’t realize until now that he was intoxicated, you didn’t bother watching him leave as you turned to lay on your side opposite to him, but you could hear him fumble in the dark.

Once he opened the door, he looked back, remorse dampening his eyes as you turned the lamp off and all went dark. And at that, he finally left and closed the door so silently that you hesitated to look if he did or not.

As Michael walked down the hall, he felt a feeling he had thought he never felt in a very long time. He felt as though he had truly ruined something good, that he had done wrong in the worst place he could... until a small voice had welcomed that numb feeling in his mind again, inviting another victim to his darker self, “A bit late to be walking around isn’t it?” it was a sweet conversation invite. Michael slowly came to a stop and glanced over the pretty maid with empty eyes and a remorseless mind. “It is isn’t it?” He smiled wickedly and approached her, towering over the now panic emitting woman.

You couldn’t manage to get any shut eye after that, but your mind had kept moving faster and faster as the night dragged on. You felt a sick feeling in the back of your throat. You weren’t sure if it was the rum saturated kisses or the sadness clouding over your mind. You watched the sun make it over the hills of in the distance of the country side and decided not to think of it any longer than you had to. An hour or so later, after the sun had finally shone through the clouds and hills, you managed to fall into that deep sleep you desperately needed.


	13. A Dance With Wolves.

You awoke to the sound of a shriek almost just outside your door. You shot out of your slumber that crept up on you unnoticed and hurried to a robe hanging in your en suite. You sloppily covered yourself and rushed outside, only to be reminded of what kind of monster Michael really was.

Blood had soaked he carpet outside of an open closet, and all you could see was an arm hanging out and a gold wedding ring across a finger. You stared horrified, knowing that could have well been you last night. You covered a failed scream that hadn’t quite reach your throat, but rather skipped it and roared out your eyes.

You felt a strong grip on your shoulders, you tried to tug yourself out of it and struggle but the hands had shaken you vigorously and turned you around to be faced with James. His reaction was almost as horrified as yours, but he wasn’t scared by the body, he was afraid for you. He sat you down outside your room door and stroked your hair beside your face. “hey—hey, it’s alright, I’m here. Shhh…” he wrapped his arms around you and began to rock, as if you were a child needing comforting. And you might as well have been.

The sudden realisation, the smack of the idea of what kind of danger didn’t really come to mind until it hit you like a freight train. You were mere feet from death, a horrible death and you cheated it. How? You weren’t entirely sure.

It flashed before your eyes now, he could have strangled you in your sleep, beat you to death with your own baseball bat at your first meeting. A series of deaths at any moment but you passed it off, like nothing, like he wasn’t a danger at all.

James helped you out of a rushed hall and into your room. He sat you down on your bed and rushed out to the corridor. “alright, everybody out! Everybody!” by the time he returned to the scene, a large of people had already rushed outside to see what the commotion was, and that was when he ripped out his badge and held it above everyone to urge people on.

He returned to your side after another detective, his partner you guessed, had taken care of barricading the sight with tape and so on. He placed an arm steadily on your shoulder and rubbed your arm to warm you. You didn’t realise you had gone pale and cold, until you felt his friction warm your side. But you continued to stare blankly at the ground.

James knew that you were in shock, and he understood what he had to do. he made his way to the bathroom and started a bath. Before he came out, steam had already formed outside of the doorway and you felt hot tears burn your eyes as you looked up.

He knelt down in front of you, and grabbed your cold hands and placed a small kiss on your knuckles. “I could only imagine the horror you’re going through. Having a crime like that take place so close to you…” he stood up and led you to the steaming room. He held your face in his hand so gently. “Don’t worry… I swear on my life that we’re going to catch him. And I know it’s too much to ask, but I need your help with it.” His eyes were full of diligence and fury, and it must have seeped into yourself as you felt a hot fire burn in your chest and you raised your head and removed your hands.

 

You felt a strong hate now. Whatever remanence of pity or sympathy you had for Michael, it was burned to ash as you knew you could really put an end to this. You felt an emptiness, no fear had squeezed you tight, no remorse had held you back, and you could see clearly now. Michael Fassbender was a danger and he had to be stopped. Whatever it took so no one had to suffer anymore.

“I’ll help you… whatever it takes.”

 

After your bath, your stared at yourself for a long moment before the mirror had gotten foggy again. You had felt you had lost a large part of yourself, you felt no more sympathy, no more fear, no more love. It all boiled down to hatred and anger. Everything that had ever made you a compassionate psychologist left and you were burdened with this new purpose to stop Michael.

You looked at the clock on the bedside table and decided to prepare for this mental battle. James had explained how the ballroom will be almost overcrowded and difficult to spot Fassbender, but he had asked if you were ready for the best part, at the time you didn’t care what it took so you nodded almost too sure of yourself. He gathered the rest of his plan on the bed sheets, describing what it will look like with a room full of people with the cooperation of your imagination.

He explained that you would try to lure him, considering he didn’t know it would be an easy job for you, you asked in any case that he doesn’t take the bait, what was plan b? although you much doubted that he wouldn’t considering his mishap last night, he would want to talk.

As James explained his plan b, you kept your eyes on him as if to show all your attention was on him, but behind your empty stare, you were thinking of how you were going to stop him… talk him out of it? Wound him, stab him maybe for a clear sign that that was him, a marker perse.

You were now staring at the sheets revising what James had said “all you have to do is talk to him long enough for us to confirm on target and then the take down.” You nodded to yourself, as if he was taking you through the directions all over again.

You moved over to your suitcase and began your make-up.

 

James stood in front of the ballroom’s bathroom mirror. He nibbled at the bottom of his lip, “alright Fassbender… this Is the day you go down… for all that you’ve done to them… to me.” He tensed his shoulders and shook himself out to get rid of the jitters and jumped a bit when he heard the swing door open fast. A sharp dressed man with a wolf masked entered and nodded to James. The man must have noticed his unrelaxed posture and chuckled. “the jitters eh? Don’t worry, I bet your woman is just as nervous as you are. I know mine is” James could only slightly see him give a mischievous wink and an evil grin that unsettled those blue eyes.

James forced a faint smile and returned to the mirror to fix his bow tie, as the man continued past him. James couldn’t shake this feeling off this man and couldn’t remove his eyes until the wolf man unzipped his pants. “you mind?” the man had said a bit annoyed. James didn’t realise he was staring until the man had said something and he rushed out.

 

When he walked into the ballroom earlier, it was much emptier than it was now. People were flooding in by the dozen, and he was thinking he was right to keep that murder as quiet as possible, otherwise, it would have let Michael slip off amongst the panic of the crowd.

 

He searched the crowd to see If you were amongst all the people dressed up but soon dropped the idea of finding you in any case that Michael may notice any odd behaviour around you. And James was sure he would spot you out easily.

 

You felt slick in the black dress as it wrapped around your body so nicely and you felt empowering knowing no one could see your face, despite it harbouring any expression. You stopped at the entrance of the room and felt many eyes ascend to you. You felt a bit of a rush as you didn’t want to attract to much attention, so you smiled at all the men and the few women making eyes at you and descended down the small steps to the floor.

 

Making your way toward the bar, you felt a presence cool the back of your neck but when you turned, nothing was there. You figured it was just your nerves working you up, but when you looked about, you saw a man that stood out from the rest. Everyone had moved around him as he stood there, like a river moving around a rock. You failed to see his eyes but you noticed his sharp dressed suit and glorifying mask of a wolf.

 

Despite the hidden identity of the strange man, you knew exactly who he was. You felt his cold eyes staring at you through the darkness of his mask, it made your skin crawl like a thousand millipedes writhing on the floor. You weren’t sure if you should approach just yet, so you very hesitantly kept your way toward the bar, turning your held ever so slowly as if he was going to attack you if you made a sudden move.

 

Strange is it was, it really felt as if you were dealing with a wolf, but a wolf wasn’t as horrid as this man. Finally reaching the bar with shaky legs, you realized all the confidence you had before that ball had left you in an earthquake of a mess. You ordered a shot of vodka along with a nice cool sweet drink. You tilted your head back for the shot and sipped soothingly the cold apple and fireball drink. It had helped a little but nervousness had still played itself into your limbs.

 

You nearly spilled your drink as a warm large hand touched the top of your bare back. The man attached to the hand chuckled as he made his way round to the seat next to you. “ a bit jittery are we? What happened to that fierce beast about 4 hours ago?” James voice and presence had soothed your nerves and gave him a slight smile.

 

“I guess it’s just… I thought much different about it earlier, and now that it’s actually happening—I really just feel scared” you removed your mask and scratched behind your ear where the mask was resting. You could feel his gaze soften and he placed a hand on your shoulder ever so lightly, he bent down to meet your eyes and with a stern voice “nothing will happen to you, and if anything does, I’ll be damn sure to kill him for it.” You looked him in the eye and forced a smile.

 

His eyes then lit up from that cold, dark stare and reached around to grab a grotesque red object “oh yeah, on the subject…” he turned around to fiddle with the object to his face and spun around, arms in mid-air as if he was presenting a car to sell “voila!”. You grimaced at his mask “ …on the subject?” you finally said after you scanned over it. He laughed and held a hand out for a dance, you couldn’t help but share the same laugh and grasped his hand.

 

When you looked back toward the bar as he twirled you around, you saw Michael sitting in the exact same seat you were in. you panicked a bit causing James to struggle to handle you before you bumped a few people. You apologized and returned your attention to James once you saw Michael was gone. “something wrong?” he leaned in hastily to ensure you were alright. You nodded eagerly and grabbed his hideous nose of the mask and continued on.

 

After the song was done, a gentleman in an equally nice suit as James had approached him and whispered in his ear. “I am terribly sorry, but business calls.” He removed his mask and placed a quick kiss on your cheek and disappeared through the numerous gowns being swished around like waves from the ocean.

 

You were quite puffed already and decided on another drink and made your way back to the bar, when the idea of Michael had arisen, you thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea but you thought why else would James leave, unless they found Michael out. Your feelings were assured and continued on.

 

You sat and asked just for a water and sipped it carefully, not to smudge your lipstick. You felt a nudge on your elbow and you had spilled the water over the counter and spilled some on your dress. You beamed over to see that the man had paid no attention and went on about his life as you cleaned the mess with the napkins provided when a large maroon handkerchief had been placed on your lap with a large hand. “allow me” a deep, husky Irish voice ringed out, you tried to hide your fear as you glanced over to that same wolf mask you had saw earlier.

 

You already knew but decided that a more inquisitive approach would have been better to amuse him. “thank you, I suppose we don’t get many gentlemen these days… with all the killings especially.” You could feel his smile under the mask and felt a little turned when he leaned back into his seat. “a shame really, but knowing you already have a dancing partner, being a gentleman I should leave.” You huffed a sarcastic laugh, until it was wiped away as he leaned in close “but I am no gentleman. Now would you do me the honours” he stood and held his hand out to you.

 

You grudgingly and ungracefully grabbed it and he jerked you much closer to him than you’d liked. He breathed in from your neck and you felt goose bumps rise and prick at your skin under your dress. To say the least, you were quite shaken and didn’t exactly know how to engage but went along with the dance anyhow.

 

Everything with this situation was indeed eerie, almost literally dancing with a wolf, the music had put quite an atmosphere, but you didn’t know much of what they were playing. He must have read your thoughts as he whispered “Carnivale du Noir” into your ear. You breathed in deep and he twisted you round, letting you dress fly around your feet, almost as if he were to throw you in the air and you’d manage to just float. It was a strange dance, he had made you feel as light as smoke and as smooth as it moves as well. You hated that he made you feel that way, mostly due to the fact that it felt good.

 

He began moving you faster and faster as the piano went on and went. Dancers making room for the both of you, all the masks had moved past until they all blurred into the same grimace that everyone wore. He and you were now the centre of attention and you were enjoying every minute.

 

Until the song had come to the abrupt end and he removed his mask and dipped you down on the last note. His chest puffed as well as yours and you couldn’t help but smile. It was really a joy to dance the way he had, and you almost had forgotten what he had done to you until he opened his mouth “couldn’t stay angry could you?”

 

His smart remark had driven you to the brink and you shoved him off you and stormed away. This time not towards the bar but outside the ballroom, out to where no one could find you, and you really didn’t want anyone to stop you.

 

You sat on the bench in that luxurious hallway and unclipped your hair, shook it out of place, removed your mask and slumped into a comfortable couch. You dropped your face in your hands and cursed to yourself. “I’m so stupid… stupid—stupid—stupid…”

 

“I beg to differ…” you looked up in surprise to see him, unmasked, hands in pockets, approaching you as if he was waltzing by himself, yet he didn’t make a sound. You sighed, you just wanted to be alone. “to be frank, you’re brave… highly intelligent, and wonderful.” He sat beside you, still his hands resided in his pocket, knowing full well you didn’t want anybody’s touch at the moment.

 

“I am sorry for… I can’t control myself Fae… and I hate myself for it. That’s why when I first met you I was able to, and that’s why I attached to you so fast” you could almost hear a crack in his voice as he went on “I wish I could stop, and I really want to but it seems to be a trigger and…” he cut off and let out a deep sigh.

 

You stood up abruptly. You weren’t sure what you were doing, but when you turned to see his eyes, watering and sad and not the cold dead blue iris’ you are used to, you froze.

 

His chin almost rested on his chest, he looked so broken, so tired, as if he was being dragged around to do these crimes unwillingly. For a moment you felt so sad for him, but what he said next had brought you to lean against the wall in a peaking interest. “I just want to die…. And… I’d be happy to die by your hands.”

 

Your bottom jaw had dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are the references i used for Michaels mask and suit:  
> mask - http://i.ebayimg.com/images/i/271874374339-0-1/s-l1000.jpg  
> suit - http://theredlist.com/media/database/muses/icon/cinematic_men/2010/michael-fassbender/065-michael-fassbender-theredlist.jpg
> 
> also for James:  
> suit - http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WrjkqS_HBb8/SF0EOY5vCYI/AAAAAAAAANQ/lvb-R2RowA8/s400/JamesMcAvoy02.jpg  
> mask - http://i.ebayimg.com/00/s/MzQ4WDQ5OQ==/z/BuMAAOxyVLNSsSDR/$_3.JPG?set_id=2 (the one on the right)


	14. Over A Bottle Of Brandy.

You straightened up and an anger had flurried in your stomach. “No. You do NOT get to do this! Not after all that you’ve done!” you could feel your face grow hot and tears burn your eyes. You can remember all the news stories, all the crime scenes you’ve accompanied James to.

 

He raised his eyes to you and leaned forward in the chair. You spun around, not wanting him to see you like this, but he only stared on in amazement, as if what he was witnessing was a tornado erupt in flames. He could only smile as your fury kept rambling you on.

 

“I can’t do that for you because you need to own up to all those you have wronged! And I DO NOT want to rob them of their justice. And I—“ you spun back to him to finish your sentence and he was already towering over you. He cut you off with planting a hard kiss onto your lips.

 

He had never seen you in a flurry of rage filled words before and he absolutely admired what he saw. He wanted to fully indulge in it by sealing your mouth with his. But after a short moment, you pushed him away and gave him a hard right cross into his jaw.

 

He tumbled over, cupping his face, and you shook the pain from your hand. You couldn’t believe him! You couldn’t even believe yourself! You punched this guy, a serial killer in the face! It felt good, but you were horrified to what was going to happen next. But after you remembered your speech, you simply stood up straight and looked him in the eye.

 

He was in sure pain, and he liked it, he missed the feeling of being on his toes. Sure he was angry, but goddamn, that felt good. He met her fiery gaze and they both stood there for a moment. Michael had gritted his teeth, his eyes had gone cold, like they would before he would commit another one of his obscenities.

 

Both were ready to strike one another down, but something stirred inside them. Whether it was the pain or the rage in both of them, they locked lips again. She had pulled at his hair to bring this towering giant to her level and he had hoisted her over his hips. Doing so he slammed her in the wall, getting a handful of her bottom in his hands and slamming her again.

 

She gasped and he took the opportunity to bite at her neck. Crazed and animalistic, he shoved down one of the hotels doors and entered, shoving it back closed again. Reaching the bed, he threw her on it, making most of the pillows fall off and the sheets to dismantle themselves.

 

He climbed over top of her and grabbed a chunk of hair from behind her head and pulled, exposing her neck ever so more. She groaned at the pain and ecstasy as he began down her chest, yanking her dress over her shoulders and keeping his lips in the middle of her now bare body.

 

She wanted to stop so desperately, but her body kept betraying her as she bucked her hips into his. And finally complying to what she wanted, he struggled his jacket and shirt off, then his belt. Firmly gripping his solid flesh with one hand and keeping her wrists bound under his other, he managed her panties to the side and forced his way into her. She gasped at the delighted intrusion, but it wasn’t much painful as she had begun to soak her underwear in the hallway when they started.

 

Thrusting deep and hard, he grunted at every jolt his hips dip. She moaned and whimpered as he kept his rhythm. After a long moment of gritting his teeth over top of her as well as bucking hips together, he pulled himself out and flipped her over, spreading her cheeks apart, he made his way in again with more ease, now with her fluids in a mess, it was much for smooth in these movements.

 

She moaned for more and more and he gave in to her demands. For each thrust a loud smack was heard. She pushed against the headboard of the bed and arched her back, allowing him to go deeper, and deeper, as he moved his hips with jerked and unsteady movements.

 

As he began going faster and faster, she could feel his mass rubbing and hitting her spot and she began to moan louder and louder. Feeling that she was on the verge as well, his paced quickened even more which allowed him to feel the same that she was going through.

 

Smack!

 

Smack!

 

Smack!

 

Smack!

 

Michael had felt it splurge out a hot mess inside of her and he tried to pull out as fast as he could. At the intense feeling, he squeezed one of her cheeks and leaned back to see his cock still shooting out cum as it trailed off from inside of her. She lay there motionless with only her heavy breathing moving her body, and felt a warm, almost hot liquid trickle from her, and more on her ass and legs.

 

They lay amongst the white sheets on the double bed, he had wrapped an arm around her and tickled the skin on her shoulder. She rested her head on his chest as it had calmed from their moment. There was a thick silence that hung in the air.

 

You had a question that hung as heavy as the air was, but you weren’t sure how he would react if you posed it. Nonetheless, just an hour ago, you had punched him in the face. You sat up a little so you could see if he would tense or not at the question.

 

“What…What did you do, before all of this?” the silence managed to get even heavier, almost gravity defying. You wanted to cut through it desperately, as you could still here your ears ringing with your own voice. “ I mean—“ but he had cut you off, almost with an irritated tone in his voice “I know what you mean.”

 

Another long silence.

 

“I was…a psychologist. Much like yourself.” His tone from before had completely disappeared and sounded almost as if he was telling a joke. You shot him a glance.

 

You could sense he was going to tell you more, but before he did, he put his previous pair of boxers on and made himself a brandy from the mini fridge at the edge of the room. He took a sip and gritted his teeth.

 

“I was in fact, a psychologist for the mentally insane at the same asylum they put me in.” which is how you escaped, considering you must have known the layout you thought to yourself. “Hearing all kinds of stories. Of murder, rape, suicide, anger. Sometimes all of them from multiple patients. It started becoming too much, and I began drinking.” He took a long sip this time, finish his glass and he poured another glass.

 

You sat up to hug your knees to your chest, pushing your cheeks into her knees as he went on. “I kept coming home later and later each day. I couldn’t exactly talk to someone about this, it would only put a burden on them as well as it had me.”

Another sip. “and so one day, I wrote a letter of resignation and handed it in. My partner was getting annoyed and decided it would be for the best, and I started in construction.” He looked into his gold beverage and chuckled to himself. You weren’t sure if it was genuine or sarcastic but he went on anyhow and you began returning your clothes to your body pieces at a time.

 

“a couple weeks into the job, well you could imagine, being physically exhausted and mentally, I was… drained to say the least. But I loved her with everything that I was, she helped the voices and stories go away for a little while and I wanted to keep that.” Michael threw his head back and finished his cup in one go and hissed from the burn in his chest.

 

He let a silence hung, and you decided to break it again, wanting him to go on, to understand him “What was her name?” he looked up abruptly from his glass and placed it harshly back on the table, crossing his legs and then his arms. “Joy” he smiled, “and she brought me just that.” He looked to his feet as he continued. “but that day when I came home with a ring…”

 

You wanted to place a hand over your mouth, as you could already anticipate what was to come, late nights, physically and mentally exhausted, with a doubt a much less salary from his construction job. All perfect ingredients to make a concoction of an unfaithful partner.

 

“I don’t know what took over me, the voices, the exhaustion… but I grabbed my hammer from my tool belt instead of the ring and approached the couch they were…” and this time, you placed a hand over your mouth. He looked up to meet your eyes, his were cold, dead and almost just evil.

 

An eerie silence was all that was left, no more words ringing in your head, just that constant ringing in your own head. “Joy was James McAvoy’s sister. The detective I saw you with last night… and all those other nights.” You could feel your heart thump in your chest, as if someone was stomping their feet on a high school stage.

 

“you think I didn’t know, aye?” he eyed you more deeply, as if he was picking at your soul. A solid fear had hit you and it almost felt like you couldn’t move. He picked himself off from leaning against the table and made a steady and slow pace toward you.

 

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been with him. Laughing, smiling as if I didn’t exist, as if I couldn’t see what was happening between the two of you.” You were getting ready to bolt for the door as you felt an uneasy aura come from him. “but he can’t have you, and I won’t let you go!” Michael launched himself at you and you rolled off the bed.

 

You were so close to the door but he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked you back. You tumbled backward and the back of your scalp stung like a mother fucker. You crawl over to the table and snatched the bottle of brandy, cracked it over the furniture and pointed it at him, he only showed his row of teeth in a sickening smile, much like a wolfs grin. “Come on Fae…” he opened his arms as if waiting for an embrace and he waited. “You can’t run from me, and you sure as hell can’t beat me. Not after I fucked you silly my dear girl.”

 

You can now see how truly vile he was. All sorts of thoughts started flooding your head as if you were trapped in a car slowly making its way to the bottom of a lake when you decided to let all the water in through the window. It started to sink in even faster. Could he have just used you to get to McAvoy? Impossible, he didn’t know that James was going to be in your town, but maybe afterward…

 

Again he shot toward you and you pitched his old glass of brandy and struck him in the top right temple, he stumbled a bit and continued his charge, but before he made it to you, you sliced the jagged bottle upward to leave a deep gash in his chest, near missing his throat. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor 4 feet away to your side and you tried again for the door.

 

Successfully making it, you swung it open with all your power and ran. You kept running and running, only looking back to see if he was being followed.

 

In the room, he remained on his back, holding his head, and hovering his other hand over his bleeding wound. Michael started shouting incomprehensible things in the air, and only made out what he was saying when it was his first murder. “I LOVED YOUUU! AAAAH LOVED YOU AND YOU BETRAYED ME!” He slammed his fist into the ground repeatedly and began to cry. again. He stated to himself. AGAIN! You ruined something good. YOU RUINED IT!

 

You kept running and running, barging into people exiting the hall, until someone had stopped you, or you ran straight into them. It was James. You didn’t care that you were only in your underwear and bra, but you sobbed into his jacket. You were overwhelmed with everything and could not handle it. You felt ashamed and broken and exhausted. But James had held you and despite all the negative you felt in that moment, James made you felt safe.


	15. The Truth: Part 1.

You sat in another hotel room, nursing a hot cup of tea before taking another sip. James sat opposite to you rather close, holding your hands as you let the mug down again. You didn’t want to believe what just happened.

 

“Will you be alright” was the first thing he had said to you since you had run to him. You looked up to meet his baby blue gaze and nodded hesitantly. “I’ll just be outside if you would like to take a shower?” and just as he was about to leave, you gripped his coat sleeve tight. “please don’t go.” Is all you could muster.

 

Everything felt like a hazy dream, as if it was just a silly daydream what happened moments ago, but the fact that you may have almost died made it so clear that his was real life.

 

James sat bat down slowly, “ok, I’ll stay then…” he said calmly. As he did you couldn’t help the words from coming out, and you really wish you could hold them back from his expression, but they came out anyhow. “You’re sister… was his first victim…” it wasn’t so much a question, but rather a statement that needed to be clarified, to better understand his rage, his sorrow, his determination.

 

James face went from calm and soft to cold and hard. He gritted his jaw and clenched his firsts. “Yes…. Joy.” You shook your head, bowing your head as you felt hot tears coming on. “I’m so sorry… he told me everything.” And you couldn’t help it anymore, and began to sob. “Hey, hey, hey… listen to me” he grasped her face ever so softly as his voice was before it turned stone cold as he looked you in the eye with that fearful determination. “Listen, we’ll get him, alright. Together. And I’ll make him pay for all the pain he’s brought into this world. Alright?” he smiled and wiped a single tear from your face as his own began to water.

 

You nodded earnestly and kissed a hand that cupped your face. “Ok…” at that, he removed himself from his seat and proceeded to the bathroom and started the shower. He moved his chair back to the corner and sat. “I’ll be right here, go on and have shower, hopefully you’ll feel better.” He clasped his hands together and did as he said.

 

While you undressed and stepped in the warm water, you could only feel horrible as the minutes went by. How were you supposed to tell him that all this time you were helping Michael, you were helping the monster that may have very well been your demise only hours ago. You didn’t want to tell him, but you had to, but how would you tell him that you weren’t actually raped by him, but rather consented to this man. After all he’s done.

 

You leaned against the wall and slowly slid down unto you sat on the floor of the shower stall and hugged your knees to your chest. You hated yourself, and didn’t think it could get much worse from here on. You contemplated for a long moment and before you turned the water off, you said to yourself numerous times “I’ll tell him… whatever happens, happens.”

 

You hopped out the shower, dried yourself and dressed in the clothes that he had picked out for you. You smiled sadly, he cares too much and I know I’ll break him apart with it. You thought to yourself, but you looked in the mirror and assured yourself one more time. “You have to tell him.”

 

***

 

Michael had made a clean escape as usual, but he felt a gut wrenching feeling that all was going to come to an end soon, he wasn’t sure what, but he felt something was going to end soon.

 

He made his way to the car park and clicked the keys to a jaguar he had “borrowed” from one of his latest victims and sped off over the hills. Back to where it began.

 

***

 

You sat at the end of the bed, opposite to him and waited for his response. He held his hands to his mouth and hadn’t said a word after you told him everything. His blue eyes stared lifelessly to the floor, as you sat awkwardly in the hard silence.

 

Finally, he took a deep breath in and straightened himself, and alas, looking you in the eye. However, you couldn’t see anything in his eyes except for the same thing you had seen whenever he looked at you, like you were some kind of happiness in his life and you were angrier at yourself than ever.

 

“To be honest… I don’t know what to say to that… obviously I can disregard to my colleagues. But…” he trailed off knowing full well it would be a felony as well. He knelt down in front of you as you could feel hopelessness creep up.

 

“I won’t let it pass… but I… let’s just say you’ve been a tremendously good doctor Ms. Osha and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” He smiled up at you brightly, and all that self-loathing had multiplied by tenfold. Truly, he was too good for this world.

 

“But!” you snapped your attention straight back to him as he went on, “You’ll have to be my bait again… this time, things might get a little bit crazier.” He gripped your hands tight and you smiled sadly, not trying to but you wanted to let him know you would do anything to redeem yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes it is a much shorter chapter than the rest, buuuut i feel like it's going to come to a close soon...


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